


Under Blue Skies

by Lavi1443



Category: Original Work
Genre: Choking, Death, Explicit Sexual Content, Humiliation, Lots of sex stuff and some Ds, M/M, Mild Kink, Mild Painplay, Organized Crime, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prostitution, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Tension, Sexual Violence, crime related activities, tags would be updated along the story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2020-05-15 21:14:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 33,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19303957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavi1443/pseuds/Lavi1443
Summary: Josh tries to find and rescue his brother from the hands of the mobsters and criminals that took him captive. He must do all that he can to free him.More than he thought he was willing to do.By the time he wants to back out, it's already too late. He's hooked - on the wrong side of the city.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction, based roughly on true events and places. Any resemblance to actual real persons/scenarios is purely coincidental, and unintentional. I apologize for any distress this story might cause, please beware of the tags and warnings.
> 
> This is not a political work.

A twelve hour shift coming to its end, and Josh could hardly feel his feet anymore. 

He took his shirt off before he even entered to locker room, only pausing when Mari came to stand in front of him. “I think someone in your family died.”

Josh stopped, stared at her in shock. An involuntary clench in his gut made him wince. Even though he knew it to be an irrational reaction, to something she couldn’t possibly know anything about - he felt her words hit him like a punch to the head. 

“Okay.” He said, air still locked in his lungs. “I mean, what?” He exhaled sharply. His heart was beating  _ really _ hard in his chest. 

“Your phone, it hadn’t stopped ringing since I came here ten minutes ago.” 

His expression was probably transforming into something ugly, but he couldn’t really give a shit about that at the moment. He stormed into the locker room, hearing his ringtone the moment he entered. 

“Dude, I think you forgot your alarm clock?” Another guy said, yawning and stretching on the bench. 

Josh ignored him, going straight for his phone. 

It was his Mom, of course it was his Mom. 

Josh clenched his eyes shut and banged his forehead on the wood of the closet. He gasped a breath, feeling dizzy. He answered and put the phone to his ear without moving.

“Hello?” His Mother sounded shaky and unsure.

“I’m here.”

“It’s Ronny.”

_ Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry -  _

“Is he dead?” 

“I… He hasn’t come home for the last three days, he doesn’t answer his phone, he didn’t go to school, I don’t have any of his friend’s number-” 

Josh was only half listening. Ronny  _ didn’t have any friends _ . And Josh knew he didn’t like studying, he was never good at it, with his dysxelxy and everything… but to miss school altogether? He was at his final year in high-school, surly he had exams and things he needed to be doing? 

It was a while before he realised his Mother had gone quiet on the other side of the line. He could hear her breathing. 

“It’s… I’m on the other side of the country, and I have a shift tomorrow-” 

“-Are you serious?!” His Mother screeched, making him wince. 

He felt so small. “Aren’t you supposed to call the police for that?” Josh knew it was a stupid thing to say.

“If the police get to him, they’ll take him away. How can you- how can you say that-”

“I’m sorry, Mom, I’m sorry. I’ll catch a bus, but it’s going to be… six hours, maybe more, before I get to Tel Aviv.” 

“Don’t bother to come home before you find him.” She said and hang up. Her disappointment of him echoed in Josh’s ears, almost ringing, even seconds after the call ended.

Josh had a hard time breathing, the room feeling too small all of a sudden. Too many scenarios involving Ronny dead somewhere, of Ronny being stabbed or robbed or getting drunk until he lost consciousness-

“Josh?” Mari’s voice came from behind him. “It’s none of my business, but is everything okay? Do you need to speak to your manager?” 

“No.” Josh swallowed, his next shift is in 24 hours, and he’ll surely be back before that. “It’s all fine, just some drama.”

He tried calling Ronny several times as he walked to his apartment a few minutes later, and as he packed some food and water (and money) into his backpack. 

The Red Sea was a stretch of bright teal in a landscape of reddish mountains. Josh got lost in thought, staring at it for a while through the window in his tiny kitchen. He caught himself and moved on. 

Just before he reached the bus station, he received a message. 

‘ _ A whore named Talin. NewCS TLV 2flr’ _

***

The first thing that always hit him the hardest, whenever he stepped off the bus in Central Station Tel Aviv, was the smell. 

It held the type of stench that only the unique combination of body odor, urine, and cleaning solutions applied equally over the last few decades had managed to achieve. 

Josh glanced around tiredly, the floor-to-ceiling windows let in so much sunshine to the passenger’s halls, and yet the place had the aura of gloom and fluorescent light, despite it all. 

He checked his phone more out of habit than anything. He had a few more missed calls from his mother, and two from his boss. He didn’t bother to call back either of them. 

Josh had tried calling Ronny during the ride on the bus, several times, with no answer. Other than a cryptic text message and a general destination in mind, Josh had no idea what he was even  _ doing here _ .

It was a few hours ago that Ronny, his brother, suddenly texted him a name, and a floor number in the Central Bus Station of Tel Aviv. 

Josh didn’t know what he would find, but he had his suspicions. It wasn’t the first time he had to get his brother out of… trouble. 

Yet it  _ did _ seem to be more serious than it ever was  _ before _ . 

Josh ignored the crowd who all walked in the direction of the exit, and instead turned towards the sections less traveled. 

Soon, it was only him and the sound of the soles of his shoes creaking on the old tiles. He knew where he was supposed to go, or at least, he thought he knew. 

_ No one  _ could say they knew every corner of the Central Station of Tel Aviv. The building was built like the seven floors of hell. 

While the few top levels were busy with passengers and soldiers. The lower ones, being underground, certainly a place no one decent would go voluntarily. These were the floors where sections in the corridors would have no light in them at all, and you’d have to trust your senses to navigate and hope no bat would crash into you, literally. It was where locked gates blocked you in random turns, making you head back and go from a different path. 

There were men wearing hoods lurking in the shadows. Josh clenched he jaws as he passed a few figures that looked suspiciously like three teenagers making out, a few bottles of half finished alcohol scattered around. 

Being averagely tall probably made Josh seem like someone you shouldn’t disturb. His determined, single-focused gaze met no one else’s as he walked down the half lit hall, being aware of the several different twists and turns he had to make, so he’d know his way back. 

Because these were the floors where the signs leading you to the exit, would sometimes lead you to nothing but a dead end. 

He thought about taking an elevator, but he found just a giant maw-like hole in the wall. He carefully walked closer, peering down.

There were no doors, no elevator, no cables, just a well so deep and so dark - Josh couldn’t see the bottom. The sharp stench coming from it reminded him of burning bodies and fear. Josh backed away carefully, a chill crawling down his spine.

He couldn’t walk faster, unless he missed the person he was looking for. Yet he didn’t like strolling, especially not in a place like this. 

He got lost, quickly, but made sure to keep on walking. This was Wonderland, and once you look behind your shoulder you’ll get caught by whatevers was lurking behind you.

Sounds that couldn’t be mistaken for anything else, reached him. He didn’t know whether to be disturbed, fascinated, or glad. 

A man was standing by a seemingly empty shop front, looking through the peeling signs on the glass that had once been the shop’s entrance. 

Skin slapping on skin, and the occasional moan, drew another hooded figure to stand beside the first one. Both eagerly looking through the cracks, one of them already rubbing his crotch. 

It was over about a minute later, the door slamming open and a man walking outside, his pants still open and his cock hanging for all to see. The dim light cast shadows on his face, sheltered his anonymity, as he briskly paced away from them all, not even looking bothered to realise how many people were standing outside and listening (or even watching). 

The next person to walk out of the room was slight, barely legal. His leather pants were so tight it was visible he wasn’t wearing any underwear. His back-bag was handing off one shoulder, he was locking the zipper on it.

The two dark figures who lurked outside the store, walked away in different directions, one of them unzipping his crotch as we went.

Josh walked up to the prostitute, and the young man paused. Josh allowed himself to make eye contact. 

The teenager had large dark eyes, on a heart-shaped face that would have been pleasant in another life. His dark skin was reflecting the very few lights in the abandoned corridor. 

“I’m looking for my brother.” 

“And I have pepper spray.” The boy didn’t move, didn’t even look nervous, but his words were clear.

Josh took a step back, trying to look as non-threatening as possible. “His name is Ronny.” 

The boy looked at him, and his gaze was sharp and intense. Josh knew he probably seemed creepy, and lame. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do, or say, to make this stranger help him. 

And then he remembered the text message from his brother.

“Are you Talin?”

The boy didn’t say anything for a while, but didn’t move away either. He was staring at Josh, trying to read him.

“It is the name I go by, yes. But you are not a customer of mine.”

“No, no!” Josh actually waved his hands around in denial, desperate to make this point very clear. “I am seriously just looking for my brother, honest.”

“My mommy told me not to talk to strangers.” The teenager’s expression was so amused, and his cynical tone of voice came at such contrast with what he said… Josh had no idea how he was supposed to react, or feel. 

The little knot of horror in his stomach got somehow a little more significant. 

“Do you…” Josh swallowed, unsure how to do this. “Do you need money? Will you talk to me if I pay you?” 

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll use it all on drugs and condoms?” The boy shifted his stance, his head tilted. 

He was oddly calm and domineering. Compares to how he was a about a head shorter than Josh, and far less built. 

“A meal? Can I buy you McDonalds?” 

A surprisingly manicured eyebrows was lifted. “A salad, and orange juice... and a blow job.” He added the last and a weird light glinted in his eyes. 

Josh tensed, his hands clenching to sweaty fists. This was a bit beyond his comfort zone.

It wasn’t going to be the first blowjob he ever gave someone, and not the stupidest circumstances out of all the previous times. Yet the days of Josh giving blowjobs for favours and weed were over, or so he thought. “How do I know you’re not carrying something?”

“I have papers with me, and I’ll wear a condom, and you can look before you go down.” 

“Fine, what do you want first?” 

Dark eyes roamed over him. “Let’s go in.” And he turned on the spot, opening the door to the shop he just exited and entering the darkness within. 

Josh followed behind, his heart beating irregularly in his chest. He tried not to breathe too loudly in the silence, but found that he wasn’t getting enough oxygen even when he was on the verge of hyperventilating. 

He rubbed the palm of his hands on his shirt, they were still sweaty, and cold. 

“Kneel here.” The boy gestured at a rug, the kind of generic cheerfully colored thing one buys at Home Depot or Ikea. 

Josh kneeled, a lump in his throat. 

“Do you know how to swallow?” The boy approached him, a bulge already growing in his crotch.

“You said you’d wear a condom.” 

The boy halted, assessed him, and said: “Do you know how to take cocks into your throat?” 

“What?” Josh’s eyes widened in alarm. “I don’t do that.” 

The boy blinked, shrugged, took another step forward. He unzipped himself and put on a condom, his erection stiffening further when he rubbed it a few times for good measure.

Josh would bet the place smelled horrible, or looked horrible, or something. But at that moment all he could smell was the sweaty skin in front of him, and all he could see was the way bony fingers held the hoodie up above juncturing hip-bones. 

“Most of us have codenames. We don’t go with our real names.” The boy sighed softly when Josh put one hand on his pelvis, one held the leather-like skinny tights where they gathered on his hips. “I probably won’t know your brother by his name, I mean.”

“You’re young.”

“How old is your brother?”

Josh stared at a beauty mark he spotted. He blinked a few times, then took the boy’s cock gently into mouth and gave an experimental lick to the underside of it. 

He didn’t want to answer the question out loud, answering inside his head was hard enough. 

He took his time getting used to the sensation and taste, before lowering his head and taking more. 

A hand came to rest in his hair, at first it made him tense, but he relaxed into the touch fast. He always found himself feeling protected and sheltered when someone did it. It gave him confidence to be more bold, less modest, it made him wish desperately to give something back. 

“Good.” A soft whisper when Josh took him deep enough to momentarily gag and cough around him. 

Josh took the cock in hand, and turned his face away to swallow. The condom was slightly lubed to begin with, and the taste of industrial-made plastic was getting unpleasant. The hand never shifted from the top of his head, giving him an occasional rub.

He took a deep breath and began to suck again, now in earnest, bobbing his head faster, feeling the weight on his tongue and tightening his lips. His teeth scraped the plastic a few times, but it didn’t seem to bother the boy. The sensation of it was probably muffled by the condom, turned softer and sexy instead of hurting. 

Josh gagged a few more times, each time there was a high-pitched intake of breath somewhere above him.

The cock began to pulse, and Josh knew he was near. 

He took the head deeper than before, gagging around it and not pushing away, forcing his head to remain in place as his throat tightened and his face screwed involuntarily. 

The boy came, leaning fully down on his shoulders and heaving, his hips jerking a few times, but not causing any harm. 

“Very nice.” The boy laughed weakly. “I think I might need a moment.” 

Josh slowly let the softening cock slip from his mouth, licking his teeth and swallowing against the soreness he still felt at his gag reflex. 

“I can buy you a salad only if you come with me and show me where.” 

“Of course, you wouldn’t trust me not to run away, if you leave me here, or would you?” 

“That’s not-”

“-I wasn’t joking. You _ are _ naive enough to leave me here, expecting me to wait for you.” 

“Well-”

“-You are dumb. But I like it about you.” The boy fixed his clothes, fetched his bag from the floor. “Come, you probably don’t even know where you are.” 

A minute of walking, an elevator that creaked and trembled (but at least worked), another minute of walking, and stairs. Josh could hear the sound of people even before he saw them. They reached the civilized area quicker than he anticipated. 

He really  _ had _ no idea where he was, a few minutes ago down at the underground floors. 

There was a salads bar, they also squeezed fresh juice. The boy probably knew this place like the palm of his hand. 

Josh bought the boy whatever he wanted, and ordered Shawarma at the next booth. 

“You knew where to go.” The boy said, spreading butter on a piece of wholewheat bread. “To find me.” He clarified when he saw Josh’s expression. 

“I didn’t know who I was going to meet.” Josh admitted. “I was told to find one of the… uhm, people working around here, and that their name is Talin.” 

“Who told you that?” 

Josh looked down to the plastic tray. “My brother.”

“So you’ve talked to him, and he told you where I am, but not where he is?”

Josh showed him the text, the simple name.location.profession. 

“You said you’re looking for him?” Talin lifted his gaze, oddly calm, considering the situation.

Josh looked up to meet his eyes “Yes.”

The boy stared at him for a while, eating slowly. “Do you resemble each other?” 

Josh huffed out a weak laugh. “Not exactly. He looks white, he has blue eyes and his hair is a lighter brown.”

“How tall is he?”

“About your height.” 

“Doesn’t ring any bells.”

“Do you know of someone who can help me?” 

A smirk, showing brilliant white teeth. “You want to get me killed?”

The question hit him right in the gut, made him halt.

A few moments passed before his mind had its gears moving again. Josh knew his desperation was showing on his face. “I don’t even know your name, there is no way for me to betray you.” 

“Darling, if you were clever enough to betray someone, your were clever enough to protect them in first place.” The boy leaned back on his plastic chair, sipping on his juice. “Can’t help you, sorry.”

“You can’t say that now.” Josh’s fingers clenched on the table. “It won’t look as if someone helped me get there.” 

“Do you even know your way around this city?” 

“ _ Yes _ .” 

The boy gave him a calculating gaze. “You’ll have to give them something, and a blow-job won’t cut it.”

“I have money.” Josh said. 

The boy visibly inspected Josh’s old boat-shoes, his bag that was beginning to get torn, his faded shirt. “Really, where is it?” 

“Give me an address, and trust me to do the rest myself.”

“You’ve been nice, and I like you, give me your phone.” 

Josh unlocked it for him, and handed it over. A few moments later he had a new note with the address he needed. He vaguely knew where it was, the South side of the city. 

“I want to get your number. If I feel like I need help because of a mess you’ve made, you’re going to take responsibility.”

“Sure.” Josh agreed immediately. He could block the number or change his own in the future. 

As Talin thanked him and moved back towards the stairs to the underground floors, Josh was left  _ really  _ wondering  _ why _ Ronny would lead him to this boy… instead of simply telling Josh where to find him.

***

It was significantly darker, when Josh walked outside to the street. 

Ronny hadn’t answered any of his phone calls yet, and he received no more messages except the one that helped him find Talin. 

There was so much pollution out in the busy street outside the Central Station, it turned the pavement black. 

At the intersection, a lady walked onto the road even while cars were screeching to halt in order not to hit her. She was grotesquely skinny, her once-pink dress hanging off her frames like a curtain. She continuously mumbled to herself, not seeming to notice when a taxi driver honked angrily at her. 

Josh couldn’t judge her age, it was an impossible task with drug addicts like her.

He swallowed. He and everyone around him moved aside, touching each other on the hot day - to make a clear path for her when she finally reached their side of the sidewalk. No one wanted to be near her, or brush against her by mistake. 

Her flip flops were so torn and out of shape that her thumbs dragged on the ground, black, broken-looking, and -

Josh looked up, there was a green light, and he hurried to cross the road and get as far away from her. 

It’s been a while since he’s been to Tel Aviv. Working out of the city at an isolated beach hotel had made him forget how many people were out and about all day long. How the crowds seemed to change the lower the sun got.

From families and business men, the crowd gradually shifted towards people with party clothes and a slower pace. The city was overpopulated, and the industrial areas and living areas down South in the older parts of the city - were pretty much one and the same. 

A company skyscraper, an apartment complex, a nightclub, a garden. An old house with a sinking roof, nestled between three different towers of luxury apartments. This was Florentin. 

He wasn’t surprised to see that the address Talin had given him, lead him to an abandoned building.

Josh sighed. He looked around him, pulling his shirt up to remove sweat from his forehead. 

Two men walked into the side entrance, not looking at him.

Josh paused.

As he watched, a woman walked out with a child holding her hand.

She didn’t look like a sex worker, or anything remotely dangerous or creepy. She was wearing jeans and a bright t-shirt. The child was dressed more or less normally, and was skipping happily by her side. 

Josh blinked at the building.

It had a ground floor, and four more floors on top of it. 

There were three shops at street level, the signs not even in Hebrew, so Josh couldn’t read them, but they were open, and with people. 

Almost all of the windows of the floors above were broken. Some of them were blocked in wood, some of them were painted black. 

So, people lived there. This was… an apartment building. 

Josh hesitated for long seconds, before beginning to walk. 

A few people gave him a second glance, but Josh tried to ignore that. He walked right to the entrance where he saw people coming and going. 

It was at the space between this building and the one next to it. There was a bit of wild grass growing, but the ground was hard from so many people walking on it that there was nothing else. 

It was probably getting dirty and muddy after rains, though. 

There was a heavy chain lying on the floor, and a broken lock that someone obviously cut. The metal of the chain was completely covered with rust, it was probably lying there for quite some time. 

There was no door, only a long, dark corridor, and Josh heard the echo of people talking to each other up ahead. 

Stench of urine was sharp in the air, the walls were probably drenched with it. Homeless people, and drunks, didn’t give a shit when they wanted to piss. Josh had once seen an elderly lady pulling up her skirt and doing her business by a tree right at Allenby street at three in the morning. 

He was very conscious of the sound of his own breathing, the way sweat made his shirt wet under the straps of his bag. The corridor was so long that for a prolonged amount of time he walked in darkness, as there were no lights in there. 

A narrow, broken window really up high cast a natural, yet dim, light. Soon, when the sun would sink in the sea, there would be no natural light here at all. 

Four people were sitting on an old, worn stairwell. Josh noticed there was no handrail. 

They all paused to look at him, wary. The conversation came to a sharp halt. 

One of them took out a slip of paper that looked like a driver license and waved it towards Josh, almost accusingly.

It was some kind of identification document. 

They were obviously immigrants, and this was obviously a proof that they (or at least, this man specifically) were legal. 

“Oh.” Josh was surprised. “No police.” Josh said in broken English, shaking his head hard for emphasize, his accent horrible. And then he continued in Hebrew. “I’m looking for my brother.” 

A middle-aged woman wearing a floral dress frowned at him. Her face was hard and her eyes dark and assessing. “Up.” She said in English, and pointed a callused finger towards the ceiling. 

Josh had no idea what he was doing, but he went up the stairs anyway, aware of the eyes following him as he climbed up to the next floor. 

He reached a fire-exit door, and when he tried to open it he was surprised by the amount of strength he had to apply. 

It opened to reveal a hall. It had rows and rows of blanket covered mattresses. It looked like a high school trip, just that Josh knew that people lived like that in here. This was a home to about… fifty people. 

There were a few men sitting by the far end of the hall, near the windows. They were crouching by a couple of gas cookers, the same ones one takes to camping. Josh didn’t wish to go inside the large room, so he stayed by the entrance. 

There were a few lamps, here and there, but they didn’t cast a lot of light. There were curtains on some of the windows, but not all of them. 

It looked like there were a few people sleeping. 

Was this where the lady with a child had come from? Was this where they lived? 

Josh looked around nervously. Did they even have a bathroom in here? Maybe, maybe not. 

Ronny was hopefully not staying in here. Josh felt shaken when he climbed the stairs again, leaving the hall of mattresses behind. 

The next floor revealed another “bed” room, but this one looked slightly more permanent and orderly. There were sheets hanging from the high ceiling, creating a sort of walls, dividing the hall into sections. Josh couldn’t see very deep into the place, his vision was blocked by fabric. 

He had no choice but to enter and check for himself. 

More immigrants. Flags from countries Josh didn’t recognize, a few Palestine flags as well. Probably people who came to Israel to find a job, and didn’t yet have the money to rent themselves a room. 

Josh always found it strange that out of all places in the world, people would choose to come  _ here _ , a city where even the local struggled to live in, because of how expensive it was. 

Josh held his breath as he checked as carefully as he dared, if Ronny was perhaps lying in any of the beds, or sitting by the cooking area near the windows. 

The residents seemed alarmed to see him there, they probably didn’t get too many visits from strangers who didn’t live there. But no one made a move, or said a word - to make him leave. Some of them froze and looked at him as if they expected him to pull out his police badge at any moment, some of them tried their best to ignore him, turning their backs to him. 

Josh gave up after making a circle, moving towards the stairwell, and climbing to the next floor. 

The third floor was a completely dark hall. Josh’s nostrils were itching because of the amount of cleaning products he could smell. The windows were painted, there was no light coming in. 

There was barely any light in the stairwell this high up, a few sorry rays of sunlight through a tiny barred window. Josh swallowed and closed the fire exit door, feeling disturbed. If Ronny wouldn’t be in the next floor, Josh would come back here. But he didn’t want to enter the dark room, something about it gave him the chills. 

By the time he reached the last floor, Josh’s heart was hammering in his chest, he felt nauseous and slightly dizzy. He took a generous sip of his now lukewarm water. He had to breathe deeply a few times before he could bring himself to open the door. 

As he was turning the fire-safe handle and pushing - he immediately noticed that this floor was different. There was a rush of fresh, cool air, hitting Josh like a balm of stark relief. 

It had electric light, there was a sound of a tv. 

Josh’s arm was unsteady, as it pushed the door open. He could feel his nerves in his throat. 

The room seemed oddly white, sterile, and empty. There were cream-white tiles, the cheap kind. There were bare lamps hanging for the ceiling. 

It was a small room, with a wall straight ahead, and a few doors. 

Jish blinked-

-and then froze, when he felt something cold touching his temple. 

“ID.”

Josh could hardly breath, he knew exactly what was touching him, knew exactly what it meant. “In my bag.”

“Give it here.”

Josh, slowly and carefully, let the straps fall from his shoulders. 

_ Do you want to get me killed? _ He heard Talin’s words echo in his memory. Now his words had such a naked truth to them. 

No matter how scared Josh was, he wouldn’t reveal anything, just like he promised. 

And he was scared enough to feel the sting of it in his eyes. 

_ Ronny, what is this? What have you gotten yourself into? _

The bag was roughly shaken from his arms the rest of the way, Josh heard the ‘thud’ of it being thrown carelessly away. 

“Take off your shirt, and your pants…” Josh was already beginning to move when the man added. “Your shoes, too.”

Josh was too terrified to look at whoever this was, he simply obeyed silently. He was shaking so bad his fingers had a hard time unbuttoning his pants. His looked at the tiles under his feet, trying to control his breathing, trying to calm himself. 

He heard the ruffle of the other man searching his bag roughly, dropping things out on the table and shaking the contents. 

Josh bent to unlace his shoes, and when he straightened - the gun was right there - digging into his shoulder blades. 

“Fucking hurry, it’s not a strip tease.” A hand roughly pinched his ass, making Josh tense. 

Josh finished undressing, feeling the presence of the other man, hovering behind him. 

“These are bullet scars.” The cold head of the gun touched the back of his right leg, a bit above his knee, making Josh flinch and move away. 

There was tense silence. Josh coughed uncomfortably. “Army.” 

“Army? Fucking damn, where?” 

Josh looked straight ahead, the noise from the tv feeling like it came from miles away. “Gaza.” 

“Fuck.” A heavy exhale. The gun left him.

His underwear was shoved down, without any warning. Josh was so shocked he simply stood frozen, his eyes widening and his shoulders drawing up.

“Well,” the man said, clumsily lifting the strap of the underwear back to where is was decent. “No devices.” 

Josh took it as his clue to get dressed, and he hurried to do just that, feeling more than uncomfortable. 

“The fuck do you want?” The man asked, coming to stand in front of him.

He looked like a stereotype. Jeans, black shirt, golden necklace, a tattoo with a quote from the bible on his wrist, his black hair slicked back, his eyes surrounded by heavy bags. 

A thug. If Josh ever saw one.

“Looking for my younger brother.”

An eyebrow lifted. “Does this look like lost and found to you?” He waved his gun around the room. Josh felt a muscle twitch in his jaws. Someone who so carelessly waved weapons around, obviously shouldn’t be holding them. 

“He gave me this address, in case he gets into trouble.”

“You brother, gave you  _ this _ address? And what, what makes you think he’s in trouble?”

“He doesn’t answer his phone for almost three days now.” 

“Well, and why is that my problem? Get out.” 

“He gave me this address.”

“Get. Out.” The man pointed his gun at him.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me where he is-”

The man clicked the safety off. 

Josh couldn’t tear his gaze away from the bullet hole. 

A static noise suddenly began, Josh ignored it - until the man lifted a hand to his ear.

It was some kind of communication bluetooth. 

“Name?”

Josh blink, it took him a second to realise the man was asking  _ him _ . “Of my brother?”

“Of my grandmother.” 

“Ronny Elbaz.” 

“Fucking great. Did you hear that?” He wasn’t looking at Josh anymore, but at a point somewhere over Josh’s shoulder. “Wait here.” He nodded at Josh, indicating he was talking to him again. 

Josh took a deep breath and held it. It was obvious this wasn’t some children’s game. This was some drugs cartel, black market shit, mobsters and everything. There was a man holding a gun, pointing it at whoever entered. 

There were children living on the lower floors of this very building. There was a floor with black windows and no light right below this one. 

There were at least five cameras that Josh noticed in this small room, and there were probably more, out in the stairwell, where Josh didn’t know to look for, when he climbed them earlier.

Josh was just finished with lacing his shoes again, when one of the many plain doors opened. 

A small man walked into the room. Josh immediately disliked him. He had the sleazy air of someone who would always try to make you lose. He was wearing gray dress pants, a dress shirt, a vest, his shoes were polished brown. He was shorter than Josh, and the few hairs left on his scalp were white. 

His brown skin had a slight sweaty shine to it, despite the air conditioner working full force in the room. 

“Yes?” The man smiled. 

“Where is my brother?” Josh pretended to be annoyed, he deliberately forced his stance to look more assertive and determined. He clenched his jaws and his fists. 

“We have no idea what you’re looking for, but it’s not here.” The man spread his arms, a smile still plastered on his face. 

“My brother gave me this address.” Josh insisted. “He said to come here if he runs into trouble, he told me to come to this building, he told me it’ll look as if there was nothing for me to find.” 

“Now, we don’t want any trouble-”

“-Ronny Elbaz is here, and if he is not here than  _ you _ know where he is. I want to speak to him, and I want to see him.” Josh glanced around, spotted his bag.

He tried to look as calm and natural as possible - as he walked to his upturned belongings and began to put them all back in his bag, going as far as to turn his back to the two other men, despite all of his sense screaming at him to keep eye contact with the threat. 

“Listen, boy.” The suited man said, still smiling. “We don’t have much time, a few people will come by here in about ten minutes, and they won’t like seeing you here. You need to leave.”

“Where is my brother?”

“This is private property.” The thug with the gun jerked his head, as if challenging Josh to continue to argue. “And we can force you out.”

“Where is my brother?”

“We don’t know nothing about your cunt brother!” The thug waved his gun. “Leave!”

“He gave me this address-”

“We heard you the first fucking time! Get out!” And with this, the thug went towards him, looking like he meant to literally throw Josh out. 

“liar!” Josh lashed out, getting a better hit than he planned. 

He caught the thug right in the solar plexus, completely by surprise. 

The man bent over, heaved, the gun slipping from his fingers as they went lax. 

All of Josh's attention zeroed down to the fact that there was a loaded weapon about to hit the floor with the safety off. He leaped, caught it, managed to get his elbow knocked into the floor painfully, the shock of it traveling all the way to his knuckles, and to his shoulder. 

When Josh rolled on the ground and ended up on his knees, the gun pointed up to the ceiling and his stance loose, it was more because of instinct than anything else. 

The other two men were staring at him, the thug had his hand protectively lying over his stomach. 

“I’m not trying to threaten you.” Josh clarified. “But I don’t trust you with this gun, either.”

“Are you fucking shitting me, do you even know who you’re talking to?” 

“Relax.” The suited man said, looking the least relaxed man in the room. “Now, look here, boy.” He said to Josh, looking at the gun with a frown between his eyebrows. “This is not some kind of game, I don’t think you realise what you’re doing-”

“-One of you idiots know where my brother is.” Josh almost growled out, he could feel his pulse in his throat. “And yet you play games with me. I didn’t come here to play with either of you. You’re gonna tell me, now.” He pointed the gun towards the suited man, feeling the sweat over his forehead getting cool from the air conditioning. 

His hands were visibly trembling. 

“We don’t know anything about your brother-”

“-You’re lying!” 

“He’s fucking insane!” The thug looked ready to kill, the gun in Josh’s hands the only thing stopping him. 

“Call the police then, go ahead!” Josh gritted his teeth. 

“Oh I’ll call someone, and you wish those were the police.” The thug took a step towards him, and Josh swirled to point the gun towards him, instead. 

It was then that the fire exit door opened, and a very tall man came to stand in the entrance. 

He had so many tattoos on his skin that it was barely visible. His loose printed sleeveless shirt, short pants, and ponytail - were so unexpected, that when he pulled out a gun of his own and pointed it towards Josh - it took Josh a moment to realise what had happened. 

“The fuck.” The new man said. His voice raspy, as if he spent the last night screaming out. “What’s this?” 

“Just a fucking druggie-”

“How did he get in? Why does he have a gun?”

“He’s-” the thug began.

“I can explain-” Josh let his offensive stance loose, pointing the gun towards the ceiling instead. 

“He just came out of nowhere, I didn’t expect him to get violent!” The thug continued.

“I’m not looking for trouble, but I need to find my brother as soon as possible.”

They spoke almost at the same time, and Josh wouldn’t be surprised if the tattooed guy didn’t catch a words they were saying. 

The guy still had his gun pointing at Josh. Josh couldn’t help but notice that he was wearing  _ flip-flops _ , really? Not even shoes? 

“This is a fucking mess and I don’t have time for this. Did you at least manage to check him for any police devices?”

“Yes, he’s clear.” 

“You.” He talked to Josh now. “Enter that door on the right, by the wall. We’re gonna lock you in until someone can come and talk to you.”

“Sure.” 

“And leave the fucking gun on that fucking table right there. Do you have a knife or something?” 

“No.”

“Check him.”

And so the thug came over, the first thing he did was punching Josh in the ribs. Josh winced - it hurt to breath. He tried to remain calm, but couldn’t stand completely straight after that. He held himself back from beginning a full out fist fight. That fucking bitch thug would get stabbed one of these days. 

And it probably hurt his knuckles as much as it hurt Josh’s bones, the little idiot knew nothing about aiming right. 

“Yeah, yeah.” The tattooed guy said carelessly. “Get on with it.” 

Josh was roughly bent over the table, almost hitting the gun resting on it. He sighed when his legs were kicked apart. 

When he was, as last, completely searched, the man released Josh with a shove that only pushed Josh harder against the table, digging painfully to his hips. 

“You hold your gun like a cop.” The tattooed guy remarked.

“Never had one. A gun, that is.” Josh replied, turning around. He was tense, not sure if he should go straight to the room the tattooed guy indicated, or maybe chat him up a little, get a bit of information.

“I was a cop.” The guy huffed, a slow smile spreading on his lips. “More like, border police.”

“The Lands?” Josh took an educated guess.

“The lands.” The guy nodded. “You? Obviously you were  _ something _ .”

“Not a border police, just a SImple soldier.” *

“Where?”

“Gaza.”

“When?”

“Tsuk Eitan.”

There was a pause, the man regarding him, something passing through his expression. “You didn’t bring that gun with you.”

“No, I-” Josh glanced at the thug beside him, who was glaring at Josh bloody murder. “They tried to make me leave by force, and I refused.”

“We don’t have time for this.” The suited man, who up until now seemed content with waiting things out, walked forward. 

“I’m just looking for my brother, Ronny Elbaz, someone here knows about him, I know it. He wouldn’t tell me to come here for nothing.”

“Your brother wouldn’t give you this address, if he knew what’s good for him.” The tattooed man said. It sounded like a cliche, but Josh got the impression that it wasn’t an empty threat. “The name does ring a bell though,” he added as an afterthought, making Josh’s heart flutter in his chest. 

“You can find him? I need to see that he’s alright.” 

“Is that all your really want?”

“Yes, he’s just seventeen, please.” Josh knew it was pathetic, begging like that. These were people who had little to no empathy, certainly towards strangers. 

“Maybe I know someone who knows someone.” The guy shrugged. “You look decent, and you’re an ex soldier, I like you. I changed my mind, don’t wait up here, come down with me.” 

Josh swallowed down the lump in his throat. Where were they going? Did Josh want to know? 

It was a good thing Josh didn’t live in Tel Aviv, he’s got a feeling he was gradually sinking in so much shit, the city would be dangerous for him in the future. 

Josh followed behind as they went down the stairs.

He thought maybe they were going to leave the building, but they stopped one floor down.

The dark floor with the painted windows. 

Josh had a  _ really bad _ feeling about this. 

When the tattooed guy pushed the door open, sounds of pained moans and fists hitting skin, reached Josh’s ears.

His feet planted themselves to the floor, refusing to lead him deeper inside. 

“You better come in.” The tattooed guy said, looking at him with a knowing glint in his eyes. “Or I’ll start thinking you want to run off. And I can’t allow that to happen.” He lifted the hem of his loose shirt, revealing the handle of his gun where is was shoved in his pants.


	2. Chapter 2

There were people gathered around, talking to each other in hushed voices. 

There was light. Large projectors, the type they put on stages, it released so much heat Josh felt himself beginning to sweat in seconds. 

He was literally scared for his life. He hadn’t felt that way for years, now. 

Someone was beating a man to death in the middle of the room, under one of the spotlights. 

Josh took a step back, only to feel someone standing right behind him. He looked around his shoulder. It was the guy with all the tattoos.

“What’s your name?”

“Josh.”

The guy lifted an eyebrow at him. “Is that your real name?” 

“It’s a shorter version.” 

“Joshua is pretty traditional.” 

“My parents were religious when I was born.”

There was a high pitched wail, followed by the sound of a wet punch. Josh swallowed the bile rising in his throat. Was this an example of what would happen to him next? Were they going to beat him, or Ronny, to death in here?

“Is your brother’s name really Ronny?”

“He doesn’t use his full name, so this is the only name he goes by.”

The guy hummed, and then lifted his hand for a handshake. “Name’s Amir.” He clenched another hand on Josh’s shoulder in a familiar way. “You’re okay, man.”

“Thanks.” Josh nodded. He recognized the type Amir belonged to. Stoned half the time, violent the other half. 

When enough time passed so that Josh wouldn’t appear too pushy, he asked: “So, you said you knew someone who might know about Ronny?” 

“Oh, yeah.” He genuinely seemed to have forgotten about it. “Maybe Sahar, I mean, the dude knows everyone, obsessive piece of ass.”

“Who?”

“Don’t worry, we’re besties.” He flashed a grin. “And you’re his type.”

Josh blinked, feeling suddenly cold. “What?”

Someone who was standing beside them turned curiously to look. Josh tried to ignored him. 

Amir just laughed softly and patted Josh on his shoulder in a rough manner that wasn’t exactly painful. “He’ll only help you if he thinks he might get something out of it, so, just saying.” He shrugged.

It took awhile for Josh, before he was able to recover from the shock. “I can’t tell if you’re joking.” 

“I’m not.” Amir was smiling, but he wasn’t laughing anymore.

“What do you… what do you even mean?” Josh glared.

“Nothing.” Amir shrugged again. “Oh, finally.” His eyes focused on a spot over Josh”s shoulder. 

Josh turned to see what was happening, and watched as someone was dragging an unconscious body (Josh hoped he wasn’t dead) away from the center of the hall. 

“There he is, by the emergency exit.” Amir gave him a shove in the right direction, but didn’t make a move to lead him. 

Josh squinted his eyes.  _ What emergency exit?  _

After a few moments, he spotted him between all the other people walking and standing around in the mostly dark space. 

There was a section on the far wall that opened to the emergency stairs outside the building. Josh wouldn’t have noticed it, if it wasn’t open.

It was already so dark outside, you could see the light pollution turning the clouds pink. Thousands of lights from the city beyond were spread to the horizon, like a large galaxy made of human civilization. 

Two figures were standing there, one of them turned to leave, another remained. 

Amir was gone from his side, Josh didn’t bother to look for him. 

Just as Josh approached the man by the emergency stairs, who he hoped was Amir’s friend, someone else got there first. Josh recognized the silhouette immediately. It was the short suited man from the upper floor, the greasy one. 

Josh didn’t let it disencourage him.

As he got closer, he caught few words. 

“... Don’t much care about it.” The taller form said. 

“I still need your signature on this, because you’re-” The shorter man stopped speaking when he noticed Josh.

Josh swallowed his nerves, and took a step forward. 

The man he presumed to be Amir’s friend turned to face him. And Josh forgot what he was about to say. 

Something in the way light was reflecting on the man’s face, while leaving it mostly dark - created an illusion that made his eyes shine in a brilliant blue that Josh had never seen before. 

The man shifted, and his face was completely drawn into shadows once more. “Yes?”

“Are you friends with Amir?” Josh caught himself rubbing his hands on his jeans and stopped, hanging his fingers in the belt loops instead, to stop himself from fidgeting. 

“None of your fucking business, is it?” The tone was so unexpectedly aggressive that Josh literally took half a step back. “Who the fuck are you? Where did you come from?”

“I’m just-”

“You come at people and ask them questions like a fucking cop. Give me your name.” 

“Josh.” Josh felt like he was at boot camp all over again. 

Who was this man?

A paus. “Is that even your real name?”

“It’s Joshua.”

“Josh, then. Are you a cop?”

Josh shook his head very quickly, almost getting vertigo. 

“Are you an idiot?” 

A  _ ‘yes’  _ almost slipped out before Josh caught it on the tip of his tongue. He stared at the other man in disbelief, at a loss for words. Josh sure  _ felt _ like an idiot, especially after someone else bothered to point it out for him.

The man took a step towards him, probably unintentionally bringing himself into the spotlight. His eyes were lighten up again. 

He was surprisingly young. Josh expected a burly man, instead he was presented with someone who was roughly his height, lean, and Josh wouldn’t dare say it out loud - kind of boyish looking. 

The glare he had on his face, in total contradiction to the loose way he held his body, made him into the most intimidating person Josh had ever met. 

Josh took Krav Maga sessions in the Army, and their instructor always warned them that those who looked relaxed were those you didn’t want to mess with. 

And this guy looked  _ relaxed _ . His head was tilted, his hands held on his hips, his feet shoulders apart. 

“I need your help.” 

With one sentence the whole dynamic changed. The man crossed his hands, his glare falling from his face. “What?” 

“I think my brother had gotten into trouble, and I’ve been looking for him since last night. I don’t know where he is, and nobody seems to know anything.”

There was a stretching silence, and then. “Go to the police.” Said dismissively, the man already turning away. 

“I can’t. He’s…” Josh couldn’t say it aloud. “Using drugs.” He whispered.

“I don’t care.”

Josh held his breath, disbelieving that this was going to be his answer. “Please.” 

“Leave.” 

This man was Josh’s last hope. “He's probably in trouble.”

“He can be dead, and I still wouldn’t care.” The man shrugged, began to walk away. Josh followed. 

“Don’t walk away from me-” Josh gasped when he was shoved towards the open emergency exit - his heart leaping in his chest, his gut clenching. He caught himself just barely on the railing. The ground was over twenty meters down. The roasted, old metal of the stairs groaned at his weight. Dust was falling on him from the stairs above. 

The whole structure continued to vibrate even seconds later. 

Josh took the two steps back into the safety of the building, his knees now shaking. 

He glanced up in shock and horror - only to be met with those blue eyes, not a shred of sympathy in them - Josh averted his own gaze to the ground. "If you can't help me, I need you to tell me who can." 

"You don't fuck off, uh?" 

"No." 

"Baruch," 

The shorter man, who up until now remained silent, perked up in attention. 

"Give us a moment."

"Sure." He hesitated, but left all the same. 

"My brother's name is Ronny-"

"-I don't care." 

Josh couldn't stop himself from glaring.

"You should leave."

"No."

In one fluid motion, the man pulled out his gun and held it lazely in his hand, not even pointing it at Josh.

"You'd have to shoot me, then." 

"Sure."

Josh tensed when the man closed the gap between them. When he lifted his hand, Josh almost cried for him to stop - that he didn’t mean it when he asked to be shot, that -

He didn't see that blow coming. The man using the blunt end of the gun to hit him below his ribcage, right in the kidney. 

Josh moaned in agony as he slipped to the floor. "Fucker." 

He heard a laugh. 

"You'd have to shoot me." Josh said again, his agony overriding his common sense. His anger and frustration making him forget his fear. 

The next blow came to the back of his head. 

*

*

Josh woke up to the worst headache he had ever felt in his life. 

He groaned and shifted. Which only brought a new wave of pain, rolling through his body and erasing thoughts and reason.

His whole body was stiff and aching in one way or another. He felt itchy with dirt and bruises. 

Josh coughed, realised it was a bad idea, winced in pain afterwards. His stomach was a mess. Josh almost vomited, but held it back just barely. He still felt sick.

It took a few moments for him to pick up the events that brought him to this point. 

The place was almost completely dark, and Josh guessed that the only reason he could see - was that his eyes woke up to it. The moment he’d step into the light - he’d probably won’t be able to see anything in this kind of darkness anymore. 

He was in the dark floor. He recognized the smell, recognized the size. 

There was no one there beside him. All those people had left… no one thought to pick Josh up, or call an ambulance, or anything like that. They probably just stepped over him and went on with their business. 

Josh was no one to them. Because Josh had nothing to offer. 

He was lying roughly where he talked to Amir’s friends, which meant no one even moved him once he fell unconscious. 

He took out his phone, pointed it in the other direction, used the light from the screen to find the door to the stairwell inside the building. 

Those people are not going to help him find Ronny, not if he doesn’t offer something in return. Not before he’d prove his worth.

But Josh didn’t  _ want _ to play these games, Josh just wanted his brother to be safe. 

Just for the fuck of it, Josh dialed his Brother’s number once more. The call didn’t even connect. 

Something had happened to him, something that prevented him from speaking to Josh directly, something that made him point at Talin, out of all people. 

It was morning.

When Josh went out to the street, people gave him a wide berth. No one looked at him directly, but a few people glanced at the sight of blood on his shirt. He obviously bled when he was hit in the head.  _ Quite common for head injuries _ , he felt like he was quoting his commander,  _ if you feel faint or lose memory go to the infirmary _ . He probably had a concussion. 

At least he had his bag with him, his wallet. 

Josh took a bus to his mother’s apartment.

He noticed the way people glanced at the free sit next to him through the ride, but no one sat. Not even when the bus was packed. 

He received a text message to his phone just as he got off on his mother’s block. 

It was his boss:  _ “Consider yourself fired. The bookkeeper will contact you about severance package.” _

_ * _

The sun was hitting him harshly enough to make him walk only in the shades of the trees. He was limping. 

“Mom, I think he’s injured.” 

A child passed him by.

The mother gulped, grabbed her daughter and hurried away. “You don’t point at people.” 

*

His mother’s apartment complex looked exactly like all its neighbors. Gray, square, four stores high. No decorations, no balconies, no change since the 60s. 

The light switch didn’t work, so Josh climbed the stairs in enfolding darkness. He knew by heart where he was supposed to go. 

He could hear the sound of TV coming from several doors. It wasn’t that the doors were really that thin, it was just that the residents were that old and deaf.

He used to know them by their faces, now he honestly didn’t believe any of them would recognize him… and he could vaguely remember the lady who used to feed the cats, but nothing more. 

Climbing the stairs was hell, Josh stopped several times to catch his breath. Climbing was doing bad things to his torso, his kidney probably looked like a burger. Josh was breathing harshly and painfully by the time he got to the third floor, where his mother lived. 

He knocked on the door, rang the bell, wasn’t surprised that there was no answer. He knew his mother would be at home, she didn’t have a job since he was a teenager - her anxiety led to fits of depression. She worried, constantly, about everything. She was probably sick in the last few days since Ronny had been gone. 

He knocked harder, and the door in the next apartment opened. An old lady pulled out her head to stare at him. She didn’t look away even as Josh stared back. 

Josh was about the yell at her to fuck off and mind her own business - thankfully his mother chose that moment to open the door - Sparing Josh the experience of being rude to elders. 

“Where’s Ronny?” His mother didn’t even close the door behind him before asking. 

Josh grunted under his breath. “I’m working on it.” 

His mother followed him silently as he limped his way towards his room at the back of the small apartment. 

She watched him as he opened the closet. He had left a few of his white military undershirts, a few shorts. He glanced under the bed, there was a plastic bag (covered in dust) the he knew held some of his socks. 

Josh tried to open the widow, but it was old and untouched - and the minimal effort it took was simply too much on his muscles. 

“The computer still works, right?” Josh took a bundle of clothes with him as he walked across the corridor to the single shower. 

“It’s in Ronny’s room.” 

She followed him into the small bathroom. 

“Mom, do you mind?” Josh asked exasperatedly even as he began to take off his clothes. 

“What the hell has happened to you?”

“Leave it.”

“Josh… this is…” His mother reached out for him, almost touching him before she caught herself and stopped, drawing her hand close to her chest. 

Josh felt his jaws clench when he turned to face her, naked now.

She had unshed tears in her eyes as she took in the black and purple painting his body. “What have you done, boy?” 

Instead of answering, Josh stepped into the small shower and closed the plastic door, turning on the stream.

It took maybe a minute, before he heard the sound of the door shutting as she left him be. 

*

The computer in Ronny’s room used to belong to Josh, before he left the house when he was seventeen, right before joining the army. 

As he entered Ronny’s room, with its colorful mismatched furniture they gathered in second hand deals - Josh tried to ignore the sense of melancholy, and instead sat straight down on the computer chair. 

The computer started up pretty slowly, which meant it wasn’t in regular use. That wasn’t good, considering Josh was going to push it today. 

Their father used to blame this computer, and their internet connection, on Josh turning out not normal enough. 

Josh first came out of the closet in front of a therapist in the screening for the military. He was sure it was going to harm his chances of joining a fighting position. 

“Does your family know?” The therapist asked, he had the barest hint of a beard, his glasses square and thin.

“No.”

“Are they traditional?”

“Yes.”

“Well.” The therapist then said. “The army supports those whose family reject them. And if you encounter any problems with them, know that you will be given help.”

“Will it mean I can’t be a fighter?” 

The therapist looked at him for while with his eyes slightly squinted. “Oh.” He said at last. “You mean your sexual orientation?” 

Josh stared at him without words. 

“Uh, I mean, no.” He smiled, then, as if there was something amusing about that notion. “No, definitely not.”

It was a problem. Being so accepted in a system he figured would be masculine and macho - and then… thinking everyone were like that, everywhere. Accepting, that is. 

He told his parents on that very same day after coming back home from the military office in the city. “The army doesn’t care.” He said. “So it’s not going to have an impact.” 

His mother started crying, and his father started yelling. The computer was moved to Ronny’s room. 

Josh left the house six months later, moving to a military apartment complex for soldiers who couldn’t return home. He stayed there even before joining the army officially, and he finished his high school while living there. 

When doctors discovered lung cancer in his father two years later, Josh began returning home every once in a while. His mother insisted. His father was in the hospital all the time anyway. 

Ronny was beginning to get accused for skipping classes. He got caught dealing drugs to seniors at his school. The police tried to figure out where he got it, their mother had a breakdown. 

Josh had the excuse of the army. Volunteering to stay on the watch shift when everyone else went on vacations. Any shred of responsibility he might have felt towards his family made space for more urgent, more crucial duties. His country needed him, his unit needed him, his friends needed him. And his family needed to defend itself, because Josh was above that, Josh had a higher purpose than all of their little insignificant problems. 

So at twenty years old, when his father passed away and Ronny got caught with MD and an enormous amount of cash, and when their mother used the money from the insurance just to keep the apartment, Josh was somewhere else. Somewhere more important. 

Somewhere like the border with Gaza. 

A memory of a smile on a brown-tanned face, buzz-cut blond hair, brown eyes. The olive green of the uniform, and the weight of a hand around his shoulders. 

Josh blinked at the screen. It was still loading. 

His mothering was hovering in the hallway. 

“Ronny still has his bikes?” 

“They are locked down in the basement.” 

“Good, I might need them.” 

There was a screeching sound, like something grinding down on marble, before a picture came into a blur on the screen. It took a few more seconds, and then Josh’s favorite teenage band appeared. 

Josh felt the urge to snack on something as he worked, or at least drink something, do something with his mouth, even sing. “Is there any leftover food?”

“I can make some chips.” 

“That would be great, do you need any help with that?” 

“It’s fine.” His mother, thankfully, walked away. 

Josh opened his password locked folder. He hadn’t touched it in years. It’s been a while since he was in need of the programs there. 

The computer had a hard time cooperating, it was some heavy work, and that program hasn’t been opened on this computer for at least three years now. 

When Josh was a teenager, and a soldier, and in grave need for some cash, he made his way around the wonderful miracle called internet. It was alarming how much one could teach himself if he really dedicated some time into doing that. 

Back then Josh needed money, and in those years there was far less knowledge about web protections and privacy settings, cracking his neighbors passwords and selling their information on the web was the beginning. After that Josh started doing it more frequently, to random people, he managed to get as far as neighboring states. 

He never got caught, because he knew how to control himself. He never used the information he stole, he only sold it. He never avenged people or tried to take his work into personal levels, it was always random. 

This time he needed to be more specific. 

Josh had managed to steal a program that police stations used for tracking ip addresses. It was well known and very common in Europe, where regulations were stricker and people found it obvious that the government would control what they watch on the internet.

He could hear his mother moving around and putting things down in the kitchen. 

Josh stretched his shoulders, his arms, his fingers, his neck. 

He didn’t wait for the program to load fully, before he entered the code section. 

It’s been a while, he made a few errors before he could get it to run smoothly. 

It took maybe five minutes, and he found the address of the seemingly abandoned building in South Tel Aviv from the night before. He remembered seeing several cameras scattered around, especially in the stairwell.

If there were cameras, there was wifi. 

Josh cracked it easily, almost laughing as he did it. He got immediate access to survey files, but it wasn’t exactly what he was looking for. 

He searched manually, as there was really no other option. He was looking for people who had a user in this wifi, maybe someone who visited the place frequently. There were some… about five different devices. He few of them appeared by their names, which made it easier to identify and put aside. Two appeared as just a code name that belongs to their phone. Josh blinked at the screen. 

What was his name again? That fucking maniac who beat him up last night? Sasha, Sagiv, something…

Josh entered one of the coded names. Gaining access to basic details such as location, and the apps that were loaded on the device from Google Play. 

The user had an app for the cameras in the building, which was wonderful. Josh simply sent a notification through the programm running the surveillance, and waited. 

A few seconds, and he got alerted that someone entered the cameras to look through them. Josh smiled as he added the ip address and a password to his own code. 

A new window popped up, and Josh saw with his own eyes the very screen of the device. Josh hummed under his breath as he entered the selfie camera. 

Goddamn right. It was that man. With his fucking electric blue eyes. Josh felt his breath stutter in his chest. He watched as the man frowned down at his screen, took a sip of his Aroma ice-coffee, and then put the phone back in his pocket, so Josh couldn’t see anything anymore. 

A sudden knocking noise came from behind him, and Josh nearly fell off his chair with surprise. 

“Wanna come eat?” His mother look a bit shocked at his behavior. “You”ve been sitting there like a zombie for thirty minutes, almost.” 

“Yeah.” Josh took a deep breath. “Yeah, food. That’s nice. Thanks Mom.” 

Josh left the computer, trying to put everything off his mind for a while. He didn’t want to be distracted like that in front of his mother. 

“What have you been doing?” 

“Trying to contact a few of Ronny’s friends on his facebook. Maybe see if he appears in any of their recent posts.” 

“Oh, that’s.. very smart.” His mother beamed at him, making Josh feel only slightly guilty for lying to her like that. 

“No luck so far, but someone said he might know something, so I’m just waiting for his reply I guess.”

They sat at the small kitchen table. There were only two wooden chairs, and the one Josh chose - released a tired groan when Josh let his weight rest on it. 

His Mom prepared chips and hotdogs. Josh hadn’t realised he’s been that hungry until he smelled the wonderful greasy smell, and saw the bowl of mayonnaise his Mom brought to the table. 

He ate ravenously, the salt and potatoes and preservatives creating a piece of heaven in his mouth. 

“He’s okay, right?” His mother brought her own plate, but didn’t move to start eating. 

Josh paused to look at her, and saw the worry lines on her forehead, and the darker bags of skin under her eyes. 

“Of course.” He said with as much emotion as he could gather. “He’s just a thug, you and I both know it.” 

“He’s a good boy.” His mother swallowed. “He just has a hard time in school, his teachers don’t understand him-”

“-I know, Mom. I don’t blame him or something.”

“He’s a good boy.” She said again. “He won’t harm a fly.”

“I know.” 

“He needs more help than he gets. They don’t help him enough. He has a hard time writing all those long answers in essays.” 

Josh just kept on eating silently as his Mom continued to praise Ronny in his ears. How gentle he was, how polite, how he always smiled, and always helped around in the house.

When Josh returned to the computer, he realised his body was gradually getting worse. He needed to rest, on a real bed, and get some real sleep.

But then he opened the screen, and sipped on the tea his mother prepared him, he felt himself being sucked into the motion again as if there was nothing else he would rather do. 

The name of the man was Sahar, and Sahar kept all his passwords on his phone. They even had titles that helped Josh understand which was which. 

He had a few images, but nothing too personal. Josh tried to enter his email.

That was where things began to get far more interesting. 

Josh saw some coded mails he didn’t understand, which was suspicious all on its own. A few mails were just links to other websites, where Josh needed a password to enter, some of the passwords he found on the phone, some he didn’t. He had to run them on another window with a plug-in for this kind of hacking. 

Stretching again, Josh spent the next hour touring through the mails, trying to figure them out. Some turned out to be innocent, but a lot of them were down for serious business. Dark web level. Human trafficking, although it was never mentioned verbally - Josh get that dirty vibe coming from whatever he saw. 

He needed to get leverage, something blackmail worthy. Maybe lock the device? Maybe threaten the contents of his email? The whole user? The cameras? How far should he stretch it before it’ll snap in his face? 

Josh thought back on the building, where he saw all those immigrants. They were most likely illegal, and probably payed a lot of money to get fake documents from this group of criminals that controlled everything. Josh suspected that Ronny had gotten involved with them as a dealer, and probably didn’t even know about that building, otherwise he would have given it to him, instead of sending him to Talin.

Talin, who was probably an illegal immigrant with fake documents himself. That’s why he knew so much, that’s why he was selling himself, there was probably very little else he could do at his age. 

Josh bit his lips. He could threaten Sahar that he would go to the police, but that meant that a lot of people would suffer because of that. Sahar could also complain that Josh blackmailed him and hacked into his personal phone, which was quite obviously illegal. 

Josh couldn’t go to the police. 

It complicated things even further. Josh never blackmailed anyone, had only seen it in films. He had no idea how to handle this. 

Maybe just… threaten him in a hacker-ish way? Threaten to delete all his files and spread a virus to all his contacts? Josh could do that. 

Josh spinned himself on the chair, thinking so much his mind turned blank from the effort. 

He tried writing a few threatening messages for the blackmail:

“M gona ruin ur life fcker.” 

Josh smiled, then deleted it. 

‘Release Ronny Elbaz or bear the consequences.’

Even worse. Actually. Josh deleted it, too. 

‘Release Ronny Elbaz or everything on this device, and your e-mail user would be deleted.’ 

Josh rolled his eyes at himself. 

His heart was fluttering in his chest. He wasn’t sure if it was a good idea, even after he pressed send, and the message appeared in the guy’s Chat app. 

With held breath, Josh watched as the message was opened. He entered the selfie camera again, unable to ignore his curiosity. 

He watched those blue eyes narrows, and the guy paused his walk. Josh couldn't recognize his background, but there were a lot of trees. Maybe a park? 

Sahar read the message several times, his irises reflecting the light differently whenever they moved. 

Josh took a deep breath, feeling the way his hands were sweating. The greasy food from earlier was sitting heavily in his stomach. It was suddenly hard to breath, even with the window wide open. 

‘ _ Who is this _ ’

Josh smiled as the message appeared on his screen.

‘ _ Do you really want to know? Or do you think I’m lying? _ ’

This was fun alright. 

‘ _ Do you know who I am? _ ’

Josh ignored the wave of nervous energy that rolled over his body and raised goosebumps on the nape of his neck. 

“ _ I don’t care. You have 24 hrs.’ _

There you have it, plain and clear. Josh really had no interest in having a conversation. He almost closed the screen when Sahar glanced up at the camera on his own phone, the one Josh was watching him through. 

Josh glanced reflexively to his webcam, it was unplugged. 

Sahar was looking at the camera for a while, thoughtful.

_ ‘Meet me at the same building, I’ll bring your brother with me.’  _

Cold sweat covered his body when he read those words. It was obvious Sahar had immediately figured out who he was talking to. There was no chance he wouldn’t remember Josh just from a few hours ago. 

Fucking fine, then. Josh didn’t bother to reply, but he kept the computer running just in case. He didn’t want to have to open everything again if he had to act fast because something happened. It was unfortunate that he didn’t have a laptop (never had the money to buy a good one).

Okay. A single day from now, same address as the night before. 

Josh had to take another shower, feeling unwell. 

When he finally crushed to Ronny’s bed, it took a long, long time before he fell asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Authenticity purposes, some of the names and words are either a direct translation from the local languages, and/or are written in English while the words themselves are not English. If you need an explanation about anything mentioned that you didn't understand, feel free to ask in the comments.


	3. Chapter 3

Birds were chirping outside the window, waking Josh up. He blinked his eyes open to the peeling paint on the ceiling, and a few stickers of glow-in-the-dark stars. 

He was in Ronny’s room, where he fell asleep yesterday. 

How long has he been sleeping?  _ Damn _ did he need that rest. 

He lay awake on the bed, kicking the sheets off to cool down. It took awhile for him to choose to even get up to the bathroom. Something about being home after so long, made him experience a depth of calm and quiet he hadn’t felt in a very long time. His head felt heavy, and his bones were melted down to the mattress. 

The house was quiet, but not eerily so. Josh opened the windows to let the sunlight in. 

There was a note on the fridge, from his mother, saying she was out shopping, Josh decided it was better that way. If she wasn’t there when he was leaving, she couldn’t ask him questions he didn’t know how to answer. 

Josh ate, and drank, and walked around aimlessly. This was the apartment of his childhood years. Most of his memories were from this place. It felt as if everything remained the same, yet changed so meagerly only a family member would notice.

His mother didn’t clean a lot, didn’t have the motivation for it. A thin layer of dust seemed to be covering everything. 

Josh found himself standing in the small space between the kitchen and the living room, just gazing and thinking. 

He suddenly realised that depending on how things will go today, he won’t visit this house again for a long time. He might return to Eilat, maybe to his old job, even. 

How would his mother feel, if he suddenly disappeared again? 

Was it his right, to choose to leave them behind? 

Gathering the few belongings he brought with him, Josh walked outside and made his way to the nearest bus station. 

Josh loved riding buses since he was a young boy. His parents couldn’t take him to school every morning, and he had to know his way through the bus stations scattered around the city. The traffic in Tel Aviv was slow, to say the least. It was a city that was simply not meant for cars. The bus had a hard time taking turns at narrow intersections, and most of the time had to block the road when it stopped to take passengers. 

There were no buses inside the old streets of Florentine, and Josh had to walk for a few minutes. The sun was rising in the sky, and the humidity rising in the air. 

Florentine was a web of alleys so narrow and so needlessly complex - only those who lived there knew how to navigate. The houses were in a great need for renovation. Everything was covered with fading colors and political graffiti. Pride flags were hanging at almost every building. Restaurants, Offices and DIY shops were side by side in a mess without sense. The only plants in the streets were hanging from the open windows of the apartments. The only parking spots were the ones you drove around for hours to find. 

Only years of neglect from the authorities, love from the locals, and a starvation for art and culture could birth a place like this. 

Josh found the same building form the day before, and approached the same entrance. He could feel a ball of nerves taking shape in his stomach, prodding at his chest. 

The stench hit him worse this time around, probably because of the heat of the day. Josh coughed against it when he determinedly walked inside. Someone crushed into him in the darkness of the long corridor, walking so fast he looked like he was running from something. He didn’t apologize, and Josh coughed once, before walking deeper inside.  

No one was sitting on the stairs today, and the light from the small window was bright enough that Josh could look around. 

Josh had to flap his shirt a few times to get some air on his skin. He wiped the sweat from his upper lip. 

There were a few bicycles locked to old pipes, the glass in the window was shattered, an old baby carriage was leaning on the far wall without its wheels. There was a suspicious dark stain on the floor, and a few used syrgins. Josh’s shoes crunched the pieces of broken glass with each step he took.

Josh made sure not to touch anything as he climbed the stairs. He noticed the same cameras he had broken into, positioned at corners. He tried not to directly look at any of them. If someone was watching him, Josh wanted to appear as oblivious and none-threatening as possible. 

On the third floor, Josh took a deep breath. He hesitated for perhaps a second before pushing the heavy doors open. The skin on his nape began prickeling immediately. 

The room was dark, so dark Josh had to blink against the light stains in his vision. 

The fire exit at the far wall was open, and the yellowish sun rays from outside reflected on the dark floor and illuminated the otherwise black room. 

Even the windows, and the ceiling, were painted pitch black to make the room dark enough. For what purpose? Josh didn’t even want to know. 

No one was there, the hall was empty. 

A bit anticlimactic, but maybe it was a good thing. Josh took a deep breath, his nerves a bit more under control now. He’s been in this building for a few minutes now, and if someone wanted to kill him - this would be a golden opportunity. 

Yet he was alive for now. 

So, yeah, maybe a good thing. 

He could hear the sound of conversation coming from upstairs. Josh swallowed as he looked up, as if he could possibly see something through the ceiling. 

Josh climbed the stairs, at one point he recognized the voices. Unexpectedly, he halted in surprise, it came from a popular tv show. 

Josh stood, half the way up, unsure. It took a few seconds of hesitation before he went on. His adrenaline was leaving him hot and then cold and then goosebumps were rising on his skin. He suspected he was beginning to stink, but it was hard to tell, in a place that smelled so bad to begin with. 

The door at the fourth floor was open, and the tv was loud. 

The same idiot from the day before, the one who pointed a gun at him - was sitting with his back to the entrance, on a large ergonomic office chair, and was playing with his phone. 

There was no one else there. 

Josh sighed, before kicking the metal door, making some noise to announce his presence.

The man jumped - startled - then spinned on his chair to glare at him. “You have guts, to come back here.” He grabbed the remote, and the tv was turned off - leaving a sort of emptiness that made Josh uncomfortable. 

“I’m meeting this guy-”

“-I’m supposed to show you the way.” He got up, put the phone in his pocket, and walked to one of the generic wooden doors. “From here.” 

Josh simply shrugged as he followed. It was far less dramatic than he anticipated. He wondered when the knife and torture devices would come out. Or perhaps they simply wouldn’t? Was he taking all of this far too seriously? 

He was surprised to find out that the door opened to lead to a long corridor, with a few more generic doors to the sides, and no windows. The corridor was narrow, and the electricity cables were fixed to the ceiling, bare light bulbs were hanging at uneven heights. 

“It looks like a tunnel.” Josh huffed, just to say something. The prickling over the nape of his neck returned. He stretched his shoulders, trying to rid of the feeling. 

The other guy glanced at him as he lead them on. “You were in Gaza, right? You said something about that yesterday.” 

“Yes.” 

They said nothing to each other after that. The guy opened another door, that lead to another corridor. Josh wondered at the use of this kind of maze-like structure. Was it on purpose? Were they just bad at planning floor design? 

At last, they stopped in front of another generic door, that looked no different than all the other ones. 

“It’s here.” 

Josh’s eyes were fixed on the guy as he left, Josh saw him opening a different door than the one they entered through. He couldn’t tell the difference between this one and all the others. 

The maze build was on purpose then, Josh assumed. 

He then stared at the door. For a short second he felt like he should just turn his back to it and leave. All the nerves from before returned. He had to inhaled deeply to remain focused. It was too late to back off.

He opened to door, first a crack, then fully.

The first thing he noticed was the large window - the open view of South Tel Aviv. 

The second thing he noticed was his brother sitting on a chair, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Josh?” 

“Ronny.” Josh was so shocked to simply see his brother. He felt as if he was not really there - as he approached Ronny, as Ronny got up, as they hugged. 

Josh blinked down at his younger brother, then frowned. Ronny smelled bad, he looked exhausted. His hair was too long. His sneakers had holes in them.

“Fuck-” Ronny sounded like he was on a verge of tears. “I wasn’t expecting to see you. Your job-”

“-I left.” Josh said, quietly, his eyes taking details in. 

“I’m so sorry-”

“-Nonsense. The job didn’t matter.” Holding his brother at arm length. Josh continued to assess damage. Ronny’s jeans were stained, Josh hoped it was just mud and nothing else. 

“I didn’t think I’ll see you again-”

“-What did you get yourself into?” Josh cut him off. He deliberately kept his voice soft. It felt a bit like holding a boiling pot in his hand, like water were going to spill over and burn everything any moment if he wasn’t careful. Just that Josh was holding  _ himself. _

Ronny didn’t answer. His hands were trembling around Josh’s shoulder. Josh closed his eyes as he drew his brother closer, tightening his hold. “Where have you been?” This question he whispered, almost to himself. 

Seeing Ronny again hadn’t loosened the knot of worry and despair Josh felt. He expected to be relieved, to be  _ happy _ . He wasn’t. The mixed feelings were hanging over his head and hovering there like a shadow. He was suspicious of his brother, traces of anger found themselves floating in the sea of love he had for him. 

He was so glad to see him, and yet so bitter. 

“What the fuck had happened to you?” 

Ronny still didn’t answer. 

Josh, in his frustration - grabbed Ronny’s arm and turned it towards the light. He inspected the veins -looking for signs of injections.

When Ronny understood his meaning, he took a step away from him as he jerked his arm and cradled it to his chest, frowning. 

“You have injection marks.” Josh said. 

It felt as if smoke was coming out of his mouth. His chest was on fire. Josh clenched his jaws, tried to swallow the anger back down.

It didn’t work. 

Ronny made a face. “I didn’t think you would come.” 

“You sent me a message!”

“I didn’t mean for you to come!”

Disbelieving, Josh took out his phone, showed him. Was Ronny trying to fuck with him? 

Ronny began fidgeting, shifting from one leg to the other. Seeing him showing these signs of indecision and hesitation only made Josh madder at him. Josh had risked  _ so much _ while searching for his brother. Had gave a fucking blowjob to a stranger in the central station. Had Lost his consciousness when he was beaten. Had to hack to the phone of a gangster.  _ Now _ Ronny told him he didn’t mean for Josh to come? 

How dared he look vulnerable  _ now _ ?

“I hadn’t realised. I thought you’d-” Ronny stopped, inhaled sharply. “I didn’t know what to tell you. I didn’t know how to talk to you.” 

“So you sent me to another person? What did you think would happen? Why didn’t you at least tell me you were fine? Why didn't you talk to our Mother?”

“Maybe because it’s none of her business where I am, or what I do-”

“-How can you say something like that? How can you pretend you didn’t think I would come for you, but you sent me this cryptic message! Do you know how worried I was? What I did to find you?” 

“I’m sorry, okay?”

“You irresponsible piece of shit.”

“Fuck you!” Ronny’s lower lip was trembling. “I’m old enough to make my own decisions.” 

“You’re not even out of high-school!”

“You don’t know what I’ve been through!”

“You try to tell me that taking drugs - and who knows what else you’ve done - makes you more experienced than I am? Makes you more reliable? You need help, and maybe you don’t think that you do - maybe you just need to rebel against me or something - but I will take you home, and I will try to help you.”

“I don’t think I want your help, and I don’t think I want to see you again.” 

There was charged silence after that. 

“Are you telling me to leave?” 

“Yes.” 

“If I’m going, you’re coming with me.”

“I don’t want to.” 

Josh exhaled sharply, began pacing the room. Back and forth, over and over. “You’re making me sick.”

Ronny’s breathe was shaking. When Josh looked at him, Ronny was wiping tears from his face. Josh felt a knot of rage forming. “Fuck you.” Ronny whispered, his voice hardly audible. 

Josh didn’t think he could just take all of his feelings and put them aside, his heart didn’t work like that. It hurt him to imagine all that Ronny has been through, and yet he was so frustrated it was hard to stop himself from speaking venomously. Josh had gone through hell to get to this point. 

And yet.

His own words echoed back at him, making him feel sick with  _ himself _ . 

“Come here, you fucking brat.” Josh opened his arms, still impossibly angry - still so glad to see his brother.

Not knowing how to behave, probably causing more damage than good. 

“Go fuck yourself.” 

Josh couldn’t really blame Ronny at this point. He probably deserved far more than a cold shoulder. No wonder Ronny wouldn’t know how to approach him or ask him for help - what example Josh had ever given him that he would come to rescue him? In fact, in the past, Josh had proved exactly the opposite. 

Was it his right to be all self-justified and angry?

Maybe Ronny was simply afraid of rejection, maybe that was why he found it hard to ask for help in the first place. 

Josh walk to him, got him into his arms despite Ronny putting up resistance. 

“I’m so fucking done with your bullshit.” Josh growled out as he held Ronny as tightly as he could. 

Ronny was sniffing, tears now flowing freely down his cheeks. Josh could feel a wet spot growing on his shoulder. 

“What have you done?” 

And then, like a dam breaking, Ronny’s story was flowing out of him. His breath was hitching at first, and his words were barely tangible.

“There was this guy,” Ronny said, “he was selling some weed to people around the neighborhood. He needed me to make deliveries - it was super easy cash. And he sometimes gave me some to sell at school and keep the sales money to myself. It was super clean-” Josh heard him swallow, before he went on. “One day he told me to come to this - this - home, apartment, whatever. It was a place I haven’t been to before. But, like, who cares, he said he wanted to give me a bonus. I skipped school and went.” 

For a while, Ronny was silent, Josh didn’t rush him. Ronny had a hard time controlling his breathing. 

“There were… a lot of people, some kind of party or something. There was also this guy I was working with. That fucking moron. I asked him about the money, and he fucking laughed at my face. Then there was this other guy - he came out of nowhere. Shook my hand, all sophisticated, with a suit and a really creepy smile and everything - I knew right away he was bad news. I tried to leave - he… he told me they knew things about me - had pictures of me - fuck Josh, that guy must have taken them when I was sleeping at his place when I was high - they told me they would spread it around, make my life harder - it would get out that I was dealing drugs - that I was - … prostituting. I don’t. I really don’t. But they said they would force me to take clients - if I don’t work for them.”

Josh had his eyes shut, his face buried in Ronny’s hair, his heart beating like a hammer. He didn’t interrupt, didn’t say anything - letting Ronny finish. 

“And I worked - I had to go to crazy parties, and whorehouses - the illegal ones. And go around the city. None of them carried the drugs anywhere - it was always me - with the money, and everything. In case the police would get me, I would be the only one to blame and they would stay clean of it. And they made me… do, things. I had to - had to kiss this woman, she was  _ so _ creepy, Josh! It was  _ so _ gross!” 

By this point, Ronny was crying a bit hysterically. 

Josh felt a lump in his throat, had to inhale and swallow against it to push it down. Deep between his ribcage - a ball of nerves was growing and aching. 

“You've done well to send me the message.”

“I was never in one place! Sometimes I hardly knew if it was day or night! I didn’t know what to tell you!” 

“I understand.” 

“I didn’t know anyone! I didn’t know names, or places! I slept at weird hours, sometimes at hotels, sometimes clubs-”

Ronny’s voice broke, he seemed to be unable to speak no more. He clenched his hands on Josh’s shirt, his face was pressed to Josh’s chest. Josh could feel how his whole body was trembling. 

“But I’m here now.” Josh said. “I came for you, didn’t I?”

“I- I didn’t think you would come.” Ronny managed to say, before his voice broke on a sob. 

“I’m right here.”

“It’s too fucking late, I’m already so deep in this shit!”

“-It’s fine.”

“I’m so fucked up.”

“Maybe, but I’m right here with you as you fuck up whatever it is. I’m here.” 

Josh stared out the window at the city, as he held Ronny in his arms. 

His brother was broken, somebody took him and used him and screwed him up until he was twisted beyond return. 

How come nobody noticed, at his school? Not even their mother? Was Ronny really that good at acting as if everything is fine - or did nobody ever bother to pay the slightest attention to him?

“I’m so sorry.” Josh felt like he was filled with hundreds of tiny knives that pierced his insides to shreds. “It’s not your fault.”

“I’m stupid, and worthless-”

“-It is not your fault.”

“I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“You’re a good kid, Ronny. It’s  _ them _ who are garbage.” 

Ronny took a step back, wiped his tears. “I thought it was weird they brought me here, now I understand why.”

“I’m going to get you home.” 

“They said they’ll never let me leave.”

Josh let his hands clench to fists by his sides. “Let me deal with them.” 

Ronny looked at him as if he never saw him before. “Josh, I don’t think you understand the type of people these people are.”

“I’m beginning to understand.”

“They would shoot you and laugh about it, they don’t give a fuck about the police, or the law-”

“- This might be what they let you to believe.”

“I’ve been with them for weeks, Josh.”

Josh paused, frowned. “But you’ve been gone for just a few days.”

Ronny bit his lower lip and gazed out the window. “They said I stole money, and they wanted to keep an eye on me until they investigate what really happened.”

“Wait, what?” Josh released a breath, almost a laugh, uncontrollably. He blinked at the ceiling, before focusing his gaze on his brother. “So, you’re saying you’ve been dealing with criminals for  _ weeks _ while still going to school and living your life as if everything is normal.”

“My grades were shit in the first place-”

“- No, just no-”

“- Nobody noticed -”

“ - Shut  _ up _ .” Josh said, breathless with rage. Ronny stared at him mutely as he took a step back. Josh could see the pulse in this throat. 

It was hard to think, at all. There was a buzz in Josh’s head that swallowed everything else. 

“Let’s just get you home.” Josh realised he didn’t want to know, didn’t want to hear. If Ronny needed to tell someone his story - let it be someone else. Josh was done. 

“I told you I can’t leave.”

“You’re with me.” 

Ronny’s chest was rising and falling, his eyes darted around. Josh watched as Ronny hugged himself. “Just forget about me.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I don’t want you to-”

Josh didn’t let him finish that sentence, he walked to his brother and forcefully grabbed his upper arm, shaking him physically - hoping it was shake his mind out of the gutter as well. 

Ronny dug his feet to the floor as Josh dragged him to the door and out to the corridor. 

“Josh-”

“Shut up.”

“They have guns-”

“ _ Shut _ up.”

Ronny was hyperventilating behind him as Josh walked them down the corridor. Trying doors until he found one that wasn’t locked and headed inside - still holding Ronny in a bruising grip. 

Josh walked fast, wishing to the get out of there. This place was infecting his brother, terrorizing him. The moment Ronny would be outside - would be on the other side of the city - would be  _ home _ … he might realise that not the whole planet was infected with fear, just this place and these people. 

It was a while before they reached the first room, where the heavy doors stood between them and the stairwell. Josh was taken aback to see a few people standing there. Alarmed, he braced himself as his eyes met an electric blue gaze from the corner by the large entrance door. 

He could feel how much Ronny was sweating, had to tighten his grip. 

“A’halan.” A suited man greeted them with a sharp smile. Josh turned to look at him, his brow frowning. 

It was a young man, roughly Josh’s own age, wearing an expensive grey suit that looked completely out of place in the colorless, sterile room. His teeth were unnaturally white, and his eyes were lacking any trace of kindness even as his mouth stretched into a grin. 

When Josh didn’t greet him back, the smile seemed to sharpen farther, the lips curling in something more resembling a sneer. “You are Josh, if I’m not mistaken.” 

“What do you want?”

“Ah,” the man released a sharp huff, almost laughter. “Cute.” 

“Again.” Josh held strong, his anger for once overbalancing his fear. He felt Ronny fidgeting behind him as if he’s trying to hide, Josh let him move without letting go of his arm. “What do you want?”

“I suppose I wanted to meet you in person, after you walked into my property and began demanding things from my staff, after you quite gracelessly  _ blackmailed _ one of my friends.” His eyes expressed what he  _ really _ thought of Josh, despite his polite words and his ever-present shark smile. 

He would maim Josh without a second thought, he would tell one of his thugs to shoot him in the knee just to play.

Josh had met terrorists, hate-criminals, had seen with his own eyes people who would kill in the names of their god. 

He'd never seen someone looking so dead inside, as this guy was.

Josh felt his heartbeat quicken. Now he understood what it meant when Ronny said ‘they didn’t give a fuck about the police’. They probably sincerely didn’t.

That didn’t mean they could get away with just about anything. 

 “You mean -” Josh felt himself smiling unpleasantly, the expression more like he was simply baring his teeth - “after I came to rescue my  _ underage _ brother you  _ blackmailed  _ into dealing drugs and possibly  _ sexually assaulted _ ?” His voice shook, his palms were clammy. But Josh didn’t draw back even an inch. His posture was stiff with tension, and his lungs would not expand enough to get him all the air he needed. 

But Josh still stood there, and he still looked that dog son-of-a-bitch in the eye, as he spat: “After you, moderfucking  _ pedophile _ , kept photos of him on your  _ phone, _ you piece of shit. I don’t even care about the police, or whatever, you’re a fucking scum of a man - if I had the chance I would have cascrated you. As it is, consider yourself lucky I care more about my brother than I hate you.” 

The tension in the room transformed. From lying dormant and lazily exceptant - everyone seemed to wake up at once. Men were shifting on their feet, some of them pulling their guns out - there was nothing casual in the gesture. 

The guy with the suit seemed speechless at first. He looked at Josh, his eyes wide. When he smiled again, it was just as unpleasant as before. “You little-” 

“- Fine, then.” A familiar voice said, cutting through the tension. “Your brother stole ten-thousand Shekels. Return them, and consider this business dealt and done with.” 

Josh unconsciously took a step back as Sahar walked into the center of the room. 

“Prove it.” Josh said, but the heat was gone from his voice. 

“Nah.” Sahar smiled and shrugged, the smile reached his eyes. 

It was, in a way, even scarier. Josh would have prefered to be met with a dead sociopath - than a scheming joker. 

“Your brother knows he stole the money,  _ I _ know he stole the money, there is nothing to deny.”

“If I’ll go to the police with this-”

Sahar pulled out his phone, innocently enough - but his eyes were trained on Josh as he swirled it around in his fingers. He wasn’t smiling anymore.

“You what?” He asked, his face impossibly boyish under the darker shadow of beard. 

Josh heard himself swallowing, a lump was growing in his throat. “I’ll go to the police-”

“Ha!” Sahar laughed with what appeared to be true humor, as he threw the smartphone in the air and caught it again. “No, you won’t.” 

Josh felt doubt dripping into the cracks of his determination. He didn’t find words, had to remain silent. 

“Consider us even, if you must.” Sahar’s eyebrows raised in mockery, even as his face remained solem. 

Josh found it hard to look him directly in the eyes. There was something alive in him that made Josh wary. The way he moved, the way he looked, the way he spoke. 

He was charming, even as Josh hated him so deep in his gut it made him nauseous. He was intimidating as fuck, with the way he glared and yet talked so lightly. 

The others, even the young guy with the suit - none of them spoke up. None of them even tried to influence the conversation. 

From a battle of threats and scaring techniques - it turned into a negotiation. 

And Josh didn’t even see a way out of it.

“Ten-thousand?” Was all he could come up with. 

“I imagine you don’t exactly carry it around with you.”

“...No.”

“That’s why we would meet, without your brother, on another occasion.” Even as he stood, his body was never entirly still. His feet were placed evenly on the floor, his shoulders and hips tilted like a dancer. “You will return the money your lying whore of a brother stole from us-” (Josh felt his skin prickle at how this  _ scumbag _ talked about his brother, but he remained silent.) “-and we will be gone from his life. Wouldn’t you agree that it’s the best course of action, from this point on?” 

“Fine.” It could have been worse. Was very close to Josh just being murdered and dumped in an alley. Josh was at the same time grateful for the comparably good deal - while despising these men, and  _ that guy with the suit more than anyone _ , and wanting to kill them with his bare hands. 

It was an inner conflict with an obvious conclusion. Josh needed to know to pick his battles. 

“You must be tired.” Sahar pulled a pack of nicotine chew gums out his pocket. Josh blinked at the mediocrity. “You should leave.”

The silence that remained after that sentence was almost ironically calm. 

Josh hesitated, before heading straight for the door, still holding his brother. Nobody stopped them.

It felt a bit like being let go from the army. Walking free out of the security gate, one second a soldier - and one footstep later a completely normal person living a completely free life in a democratic society where there were laws and order. 

Josh felt a bit dazed as he walked down the stairs, his brother following behind silently. 

The sun was shining. The skies were blue. A pigeon picked at a piece of stale bread. A car was honking, children were laughing.  

Josh looked behind his shoulder at the building. 

Someone painted a rainbow by one of the windows, veins of some plant were crawling from the ground and already covering a fair part of the lower wall. 

It was all so ordinary. 

“Let’s go.” Ronny said, walking ahead towards the line of trees marking the main avenue at the edge of Florentine. 

“Yeah.” Josh breathed a sigh of relief. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket as they got on the bus. Josh didn’t look at it until they reached their mother's apartment. Then, while their mother fussed over Ronny and scolded him for being gone with friends without telling her - Josh pulled out his phone to take a look. 

‘ _ Can you meet me tomorrow?’ _

Josh didn’t have the number saved on his phone , but her recognized it immediately. 

He had to sit down on one of the chairs, glaring down at his phone and chewing on his lips until it hurt. 

‘ _ Fine, when & where’ _

He didn’t get an answer.

Typical.

Ronny went to take a shower, their mother went to where Josh was sitting. She put a hand on his shoulder, and there were unshed tears in her eyes. 

“He’s such a good boy.” 

Josh let out a sigh. “He is.”

“He said you already talked to him, and he won’t do it again.”

_ I sure hope for him he won’t _ . “Yeah.”

“Where was he?”

“At the beach.” 

She smiled. “Brat.”

Josh tried to smile too. It felt too painful and he gave up. “That’s teenagers.” 

“You were never like that.” She scoffed, and sat down on the only other chair, across from him. “You were always so responsible, and your friends were all such good kids.” 

_ Until I told you I liked other men, then I wasn’t good enough for you anymore.  _ “We’re different from each other.” 

She ruffled his hair softly, a distant look in her eyes. “You used to smile more.” 

Josh abruptly got up. He wouldn’t tolerate sitting down and listen to his mother mourn him as if he were dead. He ignored her as she called after him, slamming the door of the apartment behind him as he walked out. He still had all his staff packed from the morning.

The hour was early midday, and the sun was too hot to roam outside. Josh went to a nearby mall, printing a new check-book while he was there. 

It was pure luck that he had enough money in his savings. Otherwise there would have been no chance for him to efford ten-thousand shekels. 

Josh felt disconnected from the people around him. The sound of conversation echoed back at him like the sound of a waterfall. He walked down the several floors of the mall, glazing at the windows and feeling empty. 

He grew hungry after a while, but there was no appetite to come with it. His feet hurt, and he ignored them, too. 

His phone rang several times when his mother called, he didn’t answer. 

At one point he felt faint, and had to sit down on a public bench. A passing man handed him a bottle of water without saying anything, Josh didn’t get the chance to thank him before the man nodded at him - as if he understood - and walked away, taking his daughter’s hand. The young girl looked around her shoulder and waved at Josh kindly. He waved back. Grateful.

He didn’t want to return home, didn’t feel like doing anything else. 

He took a bus to central Tel Aviv. The sun was beginning to set, and the few bars that were open so early were already packed, the waiters running between the tables. 

Small shops were beginning to close up for the day. People were hurrying home. 

Josh found himself at the sea. The beautiful view of the sun setting drew romantic couples to kiss and fumble with each other on the beach. 

Josh took off his sandals and folded his pants. 

The water were cooler than the air, yet warm enough to feel nice. Josh’s toes sank into the sand. Shells and tiny pebbles dug into his feet. 

Josh reached the city-wall of Jaffa, where rocks and seaweed sheltered tiny animals. A sizeable squid, almost the size of Josh’s palm - was enjoying the gentle drift. There wasn’t any tide to speak of in the mediterranean sea, and Josh could find a rock to sit on without problem. 

Josh used to come to the sea very often. But since joining the army the passion of the water and the waves seemed to slowly drain away from him, as did many hobbies, and friends.

When he first moved to Eilat he used to go diving at the coral reserve, but that too- just faded from his life bit by bit. Drowned by double shifts and lack of motivation. 

Josh looked at the horizon, where the sky took shades of fuchsia and bright azure. 

For once, his mind was empty. 

On a whim, he opened his phone, searched for the recent chat. Then sent out:

‘ _ Can we just meet tonight? _ ’

His message was read within moments, but it took awhile before he received a reply. 

‘ _ You have the money on you?’ _

‘ _ I have a check’ _

_ ‘Fine, I’ll send you the address.’ _

Surprisingly enough, the address was so nearby, that Josh could walk there on foot. It was at the old city of Jaffa, one of the narrower alleys that was closer to the sea. 

It was a fancy apartment complex.

Josh hesitated. He expected to be invited to an office, or even another warehouse like the one in Florentine. But an apartment? 

Before he had the chance to regret it and cancel the meeting, the door opened. 

Josh blinked at Sahar, he had somehow managed to forget how  _ blue _ his eyes were.

“I saw you hovering outside like a creep.” Sahar pointed to the intercom by the door, it had a small camera that blended in so well - Josh wouldn’t have noticed it otherwise.

Looking smugly amused, Sahar opened the door wider and stepped aside. The entrance was narrow, and Josh had to bring his elbows close to his body in order to avoid brushing against the other man as he went in. 

After the short corridor, the space opened into a small studio apartment. The west wall was almost all glass. The tiny balcony was so narrow one could only stand in it. 

The view was open to the sea. Josh had never seen something so breathtaking. There were no houses, nothing at all, between the apartment and the water. Josh had the urge to step out to the balcony and look down to see if there was maybe  _ something _ there, or just the city-wall. It felt as if he could jump straight into the sea, a small leap. 

“You want coffee?” Sahar walked to the small kitchenette, already putting water in a small kettle. 

“No thanks.” There was no reason to pretend to be civil.

“Don’t be rude.”

“Water, then.” 

Sahar pulled out water from the fridge. As he handed Josh a glass - Josh could feel Sahar’s gaze resting on him. It was like an itch he couldn’t scratch from his skin. 

Josh realised he didn’t know what to say, what to do with himself. 

He stood awkwardly for a while, as Sahar simply leaned on the bar and stared at him.

“I have the check book here.” He spoke up just to break the silence. Of course he had the check book, he already wrote it down in the chat. He felt silly, but he had to say  _ something _ .

“A second.” Sahar lifted a single finger. He turned and made the two steps back to the countertop. He took two cups out of the small shelf.

Josh felt himself frowning when Sahar prepared two drinks of cheap instant coffee. 

When Sahar handed him one of them. Josh took an automatic step back. “I’m fine with water.”

“Take the coffee.” 

Josh took the coffee, now holding both the glass of water and the cup, feeling like an idiot. 

“Sit there.” Sahar made a gesture towards the two small sofas facing each other by the balcony. 

“I’m not here to sit around with you.”

Sahar sent him a  _ look _ that Josh couldn’t decipher, then made his own way to sit. 

Feeling silly, Josh joined him, after a second or two. 

Before there would be any more awkward moments, Josh took the check-book out of his pocket, then stopped and stared down at it. 

“Uhm.” He said, lifting his eyes for a moment - before averting them when Sahars direct gaze was too much to bear. “Do you have a pen in here?”

“No.” 

Josh closed his eyes, sighed. His heart was beginning to pound hard in his chest. 

“Are you sure?” He asked again, his voice strained. 

“You don’t believe me?” 

“C’mone.” Josh got up, then started to look around. It took about a minute and very creative searching before he found a pen attached with a magnet to the shopping list on the fridge. 

With great irritation, Josh returned to the sofa, sitting with far less grace than before. 

Sahar sipped on his coffee, his face expressionless to the point of it turning intimidating. If he actually forgot that there was a pen on the fridge, or he was just fucking with him - Josh honestly didn’t know. 

“Ten-thousand?”

“Twenty.”

Josh looked up sharply. 

Sahar was simply staring at him, not a single muscle twitching. 

Josh wrote down ten, then added a hashtag just to be safe. 

“Who's the receiver?”

“Leave it open.”

Josh found himself glaring, once again, up at Sahar. “It’s illegal to leave them empty.”

Sahar lifted an eyebrow. For the first time showing a sign of an expression when the corner of his mouth curled to an amused smirk. “Really?”

“Oh, fuck you.” Josh left the receiver empty, despite the bad feeling he had about it. “Fine, there you go.” Josh pushed the signed check over, taking one last slip of water before getting up. 

“It's not that I don’t want to take your money,” Sahar suddenly said, looking out of the windows. “And it’s not that I care - because I sincerily don’t. I’m just curious if you realise…” 

Silence.

Josh frowned. “Realise, what?”

Sahar leaned back on the backrest of the sofa, his head tilting, his eyes glinting in the sun. “Your brother is going to return to us within the month, and we are going to accept him back. And he’s going to ask for a job, and we’re going to give it to him.”

“Ronny won’t return to you.” Josh said angrily, even as a single spark of doubt rose in his heart. “You forced him to do drugs-”

“-Is that what he told you, that we forced him?”

“You blackmailed him-”

“-Then why didn’t he go to the police?”

“C'mon, you know why. He’s a child! He doesn’t know how the system works.” 

“He was the one to sell drugs at school-parties to begin with. Believe me, if he really wanted out, he could beg, he could show, at the very least, a tiny bit of reluctant. He didn’t. You think we forced him to do drugs? Why would we bother?”

His words rang true. And that scared Josh far more than empty threats and lies. He didn’t want to listen to these words, didn’t want them to be in his head. 

Josh had sacrificed his dignity, his respect toward himself, to find his brother. And the first thing Ronny did - was to tell Josh he didn’t  _ mean _ for Josh to come and get him. 

Josh couldn't bear to overthink this. It would lead to nothing good. “You took my brother and you literally blackmailed him, and abused him, to the point he couldn’t tell you no. But I’m not going to explain to you  _ why _ what you’re implying is sick. I’m just going to leave, thanks for nothing.”

“If you want, I can keep an eye open, for you.”

Josh was already at the corridor by the entrance. He turned to look back. “Keep an eye?”

“If your brother returns, I’ll tell you. So you can come and get him.”

“... And,” Josh paused. Thoughts swirling in his head too fast to keep a track of. “Why would you do something like that?”

Sahar shrugged. “I’ll tell you something, if you sit back down and finish that cup of coffee.”

Was he  _ trying _ to make Josh feel trapped? Because it sure felt that way. And the way he gazed at Josh as if  _ knew _ his words made an impact. “You’re disgusting.” Josh spat.

It was impossible to believe it, but Sahar smiled as if Josh did something  _ right _ for the first time since he got there. “Sit down, Josh.” 

“What’re you playing with?” 

“Sit down and I’ll tell you.” 

Josh stood motionless for a long time. He  _ didn’t _ want to  _ play _ into someone else’s hands that way. Sahar could be fucking with him just because he found it amusing.

An image flashed into his head, of Ronny’s puncture signs along his arm. The ones Ronny didn’t want him to see. The way Ronny denied he had to tell anyone if something was wrong. 

Ronny had his phone on him all this time. Was Josh’s number simply blocked? Did he  _ really _ not want anyone to come and find him?

What would Josh do, the next time Ronny disappears? 

Josh took a single step towards the sofa, then stopped.

Sahar wasn’t saying anything, his face just as cryptic as before. 

“Are you enjoying this?” Josh asked, his voice shaking. 

“Would you believe me, if I said no?” 

“No.”

“Then there you have it.”

“Fucking damn it.” Josh reluctantly returned to his seat; Feelings immensely uncomfortable. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Shut up.” Josh leaned forward, borrowed his face in the palms of his hands. 

“Drink some water.”

“Shut  _ up _ .” 

Sahar was silent after that. When Josh glanced up, he saw Sahar scrolling on his phone absently. He looked like there was nothing weird or awkward in the situation. 

For him, this was probably business as usual. 

“Did he really steal all that money? Tell me the truth.”

“You don’t care for the truth anyway.” Sahar said without even looking at him. 

“I just want to know.”

“Yes,” Sahar put his phone in his pocket, and picked his cup of coffee. “He did.”

“Why would he?” 

“He gave it off to friends.”

“What friends?” Josh asked, his voice turning soft. 

“How did you find us?” Sahar asked, a glint appearing in his eyes. Josh tensed.

“Ronny gave me the address.”

“He’s never been there before.”

“Then I guess his  _ friends _ told him about it.”

Sahar chuckled, his voice deep. “They know better.” 

“What’s so important there?”

“Would you like to work for me?” 

Josh choked on air - coughing fast and uncontrollably. “What? No!” 

Sahar pushed the check - that was still lying on the table - towards him. “Think about that.” 

“There is  _ nothing  _ to think about-” 

“-Josh.” Sahar sprawled back on the sofa in front of him. The sun illuminated his eyes, his skin looked golden. The stubble on his face looked darker. “Just think about it, maybe say ‘yes’  _ before _ your brother disappears again.”

“I would never work for someone like you.”

“Someone like me?”

“A criminal.”

Sahar smiled broadly, charmingly. “Things might not be as black and white as you imagine.” 

“I sincerely doubt it.” 

Sahar remained smiling.

Surprisingly, they didn’t say much to each other after that. Josh tried to finish his coffee as fast as possible. Believing it would justify his hasty exit. 

“Wait until I finish, too.” Sahar said when Josh stood up to leave, again. 

“No.” Josh said simply, avoiding looking at Sahar as he picked his backpack. 

He could feel the way  Sahar started at him as he left, like it was penetrating through the layers of cloth and scaling his back. 

The feeling didn’t go away, even when Josh was already minutes away from his weird little apartment and his weird, silent stare. 


	4. Chapter 4

Josh expected to feel relief as he walked away from Sahar’s apartment. What he felt instead was a deep disappointment, an anticlimax of an adventure he didn’t let himself have, almost covering the insistent doubt and unease that were lying at the pit of his gut. 

He couldn’t stop flashing back to the check of Ten thousand resting on the table between them. 

His hands were shaking, his heart was clenched in his chest like it was waiting for something to happen - for another chance to say  _ yes _ . The chance didn’t come, and as the minutes passed, that feeling remained persistent. 

As there was no chance in hell Josh would have ever returned to the days he used his knowledge illegally - Josh found himself internally fighting with himself. 

He was no longer a teenager. Cyber crimes were taken seriously enough in Israel that he could be facing jail if caught. It wasn’t the police who frightened him, it was the thought that he would be cut off from his family for who knows how long. Without his money and his presence and his attention - what would become of them?

He didn’t know Sahar enough to trust him, didn’t know how professional he was. Hackers were caught all the time, why Josh would be any different?

Considering all of this, why Josh could feel like he was being drawn to this opportunity? Like a moth to a fire. He had a good feeling about this, could already imagine the money he would be making, the comfortable job. 

Being near Sahar, who intrigued him and angered him and made him so confusingly curious, it was like an itch in his mind. Josh swallowed his self revulsion. People like Sahar were so above society, were so sociopathic - that they only considered you if they could use you. 

Trying to calm down and rid himself of the conflicting thoughts - Josh wandered down to the shore again. He took off his sandals, rolled up his pants, already feeling like he was repeating a ritual. He took a spot by the water, and let the wet sand cover his toes with each wave that came. Josh felt the salt water washing him, and with great patience - he waited for his mind to clear. 

As the evening went down on the city - the humidity grew tolerable. Josh spotted more tourists roaming the beach, searching for entertainment, or just enjoying the pleasant breeze. 

There were more than a few who dived in for a late swim, despite the signs put near the water that warned them against it. 

Josh realised he didn’t wish to go back home. But he had nowhere else to go. Going to a hostel for a single night was an option, though he cringed at the useless waste of his money. 

Now that he had no job to return to in Eilat, there was nothing really that he wanted to do. He would not go to university, this he knew since he was a teenager. He didn’t know if he wanted to stay in Tel Aviv. He didn’t hold any sentiments to this city.

The chill, easy life of the countryside appealed to him more. 

When his phone beeped in his pocket with incoming text message he ignored it. 

He ignored it three more times, until he grew curious. 

For a second there, he expected it to be something Sahar sent him. So when he saw Ronny’s name, he felt let down and immediately after - stupid. Josh closed his eyes, let a sigh escape him.

He was doomed, and he already knew it. 

Before he could bring himself to read what Ronny sent him - he went off the beach and onto the sidewalk, walking barefoot to let his feet dry. 

They were looking for waiters in a busy looking restaurant. Josh didn’t like waiting tables, but there was no denying the fact that it could bring a lot of money. He didn’t let himself dismiss it, so he wrote down the phone number from the sign, maybe later it would be relevant again.

He opened the texts from his brother, who was asking him if he was returning home.

There was sharp pain piercing his chest, leaving him breathless. 

It felt like a weight was put on his shoulders, and he was tired of carrying it around anymore. 

When his thoughts strayed to Sahar, he squashed those thoughts and texted back - that he was on his way.

*

*

Josh woke up to the sound of people talking animatedly to each other. There was loud clattering coming from the kitchen. Josh groaned as he shifted to lie on his stomach. The too hot sun entered through the window and landed unconventionally right at him, where he was sprawling on the bed. 

He tried to buy some time, tried to fall back asleep. Eventually his bladder began to ache, and his irritation was growing fiercely as the temperatures began to rise. 

Very reluctantly, he got himself out of his bedroom, and into the only bathroom they all shared.

“Well, well.” His mother was getting laundry out of the washing machine, prepared to put it to hang outside the window. She inspected him fondly as Josh yawned and washed his face. 

“Get out, I need to take a piss.” 

“I’m your mother.”

“I’m not a child.” 

“Fine, then.” His mother huffed, she gathered most of the wet clothes into a basket and put it by the large windows. “You can put these on the laundry rack, then.”

“Get out.” Josh didn’t wait for her to leave as he lifted the seat of the toilet and lowered his underwear. He could hear her very clearly as she huffed and muttered to herself behind his back, shutting the door with unnecessary force. 

*

“Don’t you have school?” Josh cornered Ronny in the kitchen, where his brother was frying french toasts and munching on a carrot. 

“Don’t you have clothes?” Ronny pointed the half carrot at Josh’s bare chest. 

Josh hummed as he opened the fridge. He was wearing only a pair of briefs. “It’s hot.” 

“Mom said I can stay home today, to rest. I’ll go to school tomorrow.” 

“I’ll make sure of that.”

“Don’t be so sour.” 

“Mom!” Josh stretched his body - his head over the corner to the corridor leading to the bedrooms. “Milk!”

“I used it all.” Ronny said behind him. Their mother shouted something unintelligible that Josh ignored in favor of glaring at his brother. “I’m making food, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“I want coffee.” Josh slammed the door of the fridge closed, it slammed back open. He grunted as he closed it again, this time leaning on it to make sure it will stay shut. 

“Make black coffee, then.” 

The taste of instant coffee rose in his mouth uninvited. “I like it with milk.” 

Ronny made a face. 

Josh went back to bed, stomach now rumbling from the smell of french toasts and the craving for instant coffee. He grumpily collapsed on the sheets, feeling himself beginning to sweat and wishing he was back at the apartment in Eilat, where the air conditioner worked nonstop and there was always food to smuggle from the kitchens of the hotel. 

He was supposed to get his paycheck by next week, he expected to see the added sum of the severance package. It would probably be enough to give his mom a few months of mortgage and food. 

Josh rolled to his back, stared at the ceiling, thinking hard on his options. 

He could maybe get stuck in here for a while, settle down, find an easy job. The salary in Tel Aviv for waiters would be high… if he could work at a few places at once. Shove at least seven shifts a week. 

It has the potential to be more than enough. 

An image jumped to his head, of the sea at sunset, and of a smirking face with bright blue eyes sitting in front of him. 

Josh’s mind turned completely blank. 

He blinked with shock at himself. 

_ ‘Sleep on it. _ ’ 

Sahar shoving Josh’s check back to him on the table. Ten thousand Shekels. His face turning thoughtful as he told Josh that Ronny was going to turn back to drug dealing eventually. 

Josh felt his jaws clench, his fingers wrinkle the sheets as they clawed. 

A loud knock on the open door made him jump, caught off guard. 

“Food’s ready.” Ronny said, before moving down the corridor. Josh heard him knocking on their mother’s bedroom door as well. 

*

*

Josh got the job as a waiter down by the beach. It was a good one. The owner was cheap and had only two waiters per shift, which meant less people to split the tips with. The menu was overly pricey, the customers had no alternative, and everyone were in a very good mood.

Josh was decent at this job. His ability to maneuver different tasks even when exhausted, and smile even when impatient - brought him good tips. Better than he expected. 

It was boring to tears, but Josh was no stranger to boring jobs. 

“Are you sure you want to wait tables?” His mother prodded him when he told her about his new job, before one of his first evening shifts. 

“It’s easy money.” 

“Yes, but…” His mother made a face. “It’s beneath you, Josh.” 

Josh sighed as he closed his eyes and thought of words that wouldn’t be too harsh. “It’s just for now.” 

“Don’t you want to study?” His mother entered his room, came to sit on his bed. She watched him as he put on an old pair of short jeans and a torn band t-shirt. Luckily - restaurants at the beach didn’t have a dress code. 

“I can't think of anything I want to learn.”

“Maybe business management?”

Josh frowned at her. “What’s that got to do with me?”

“I just want you to be happy.” 

“I  _ am _ happy.” 

“Really?” 

Josh paused. Looked at her. “Yes, of course.” 

“You never smile, you always look tired-”

“-I’m like that all the time, mom. You just haven’t been seeing me a lot these past few years.” 

She didn’t answer, her face fell. 

Josh felt quiet resentment. This inner, deep pool of emotions he had in him, that was usually still and dormant -suddenly shook. He could imagine water spilling over, just a bit, just enough to make him feel exposed and uncomfortable. What right did his mother have? To judge him? To worry about him? 

He was ridden with guilt, and he felt compelled to cover it with anger.

Did she think it was her job to care for him? After all these years? 

Josh had grown up and had become a man away from her, and he was going to continue to grow and experience and  _ live _ even without her. 

This was just hypocricity. 

Thankfully, it was at this moment that the lock at the door to the apartment rattled loudly, and Ronny came in. 

His mother broke eye contact and got up to greet him.

Ronny was saying something, Josh wasn’t listening.

*

Josh’s skin got darker than it was before. His knees hurt. His paychecks were unsteady, but reliable. The owner of the restaurant was happy with him, and made sure Josh would get five shifts a week. 

Josh’s shoes got walked through, and he had to spend too much money on buying new ones, 

Josh managed to make a lot of money, considering, despite the hardships.

Josh had very little interactions with the other workers, but whatever he had - it was pleasant. He knew their names, and they all seemed to like him. 

No one asked personal questions in places like this, everyone held their lives close to their chests. They were a group of strangers who needed money to survive in this hungry city. 

Josh made sure he was smiling and responsive, even as his mind blacked out for hours at a time.

Josh tried not to think too much. Didn’t delve into uncomfortable thoughts and ideas. There was no need to worry, worrying just stressed him out. It was better to just… drift. 

The days passed quickly, became weeks, became a month. 

The mediterranean sea was so blue when it was clear of waves. It made Josh think of Blue eyes - it made him deliberately blank his mind again, and make a round in the restaurant, see if any of the tables needed anything.  

Sometimes, he felt like there was nothing to his existence but this: making money, keeping the expenses low, paying the bills on time, checking the mortgage every month to make sure his mother wasn’t lagging behind. Making sure Ronny was actually going to school again. 

When he wasn’t at work he was walking down the beach, strolling down the shore of the city, reaching the old walls of Jaffa - then finding a rock in the water to sit on. 

He already knew the local crabs by heart. 

The fishermen recognized him. One in particular, who liked to fish in the evenings. He stood up on the edge of the wall, twenty meters above the sea - his hook caught the bigger fish that tended to reach the shallow waters at later hours.

They nodded at each other from afar as the man took his position, always at the same spot. It was Josh’s cue to leave, he didn’t want to get tangled with the fishing line. 

He took the stairs up the wall two at a time, already so used to the slippery stone that he didn’t need to be careful.

*

The people at the restaurant insisted he would go out with them. Josh couldn’t understand why. He wasn’t talkative or fun to be with, he didn’t try to be, and he was aware enough to understand that no one really wanted to be his friend. 

And yet one the the girls wanted a proper birthday party, including all her co-workers - as sullen and grumpy as they might be. 

Josh reluctantly agreed to come, although he was sure he’d leave as soon as it was acceptable. 

They started the night at one of the many bars scattered around North Tel Aviv, where everyone wore designer clothes and the beer cost 40 Shekels. 

Josh stood out, but no one seemed to mind it too much. The hostess gave him  _ a look _ , but Josh managed to ignore her well enough. 

He sat quietly at one corner of the table. Most of the evening passed okay, Josh was almost about to leave when someone suddenly talked to him. 

“That’s a nice scar.” The barman, pointing at Josh’s nape. 

“I’ve seen it a few times,” one of the waitresses politely sipped on her 50 Shekels cocktail and swirled the ice cubes noisily. “Were you a proper soldier, and everything?” 

Josh shrugged, smiled. 

“I managed to cause enough trouble that I wasn’t requited.” One of the guys laughed. “I’m glad I didn’t have to go through that.” 

“That’s rude.” The waitress with the cocktail said. “That’s a very improper thing to say.” 

“Whatever.” The guy laughed again, before turning to Josh. “Are you happy that you got that scar?”

“I got many more.” Josh said.

“You see?” The guy (Josh believed him to be from the kitchen) turned to the waitress.

“It’s complicated.” Josh summed up, suddenly feeling uncomfortably warm. The damaged skin on his nape itched, and he had to struggle against the urge to touch it. 

“I served at the Air Force. Did maintenance work for F-16. One of the shittiest jobs there are.” The barman smiled, obviously trying to get rid of the awkward air between them. 

“I was at the Boot Camp with all the greenies.” The waitress smiled. “Where have you been, Josh?”

Josh swallow. He got a flash of sunlight and dust and a splatter of blood, a drop hitting one of his his wide open eyes. Then Josh blinked and he was at the bar again, surrounded by faces that were waiting for his answer. Josh rubbed his eye, still feeling the blood there. “Combat Engineering.”

There was a brief silence.

“How old are you?” The waitress said, putting down her cocktail.

“Twenty Four.” Josh already knew what they would all say.

They reacted just as he thought they would.

“Wait, that means you were in Tzuk Eitan.” The kitchen guy suddenly looked horrified.

“You were in Gaza?” The Barman, who was busy finishing his bowl of chips up until now, stopped and stared at Josh, his gaze sober. 

“Is that scar…?”

Josh shrugged again, sighed. “Yeah.”

“Damn.” The Barman lifted his hand, Josh felt a single finger tracing the scar tissue - the sensation sending violent shivers down his spine. 

Josh reacted immediately with instinct and no thought, grabbing the man’s wrist and pinning it to the table between them, unnecessarily forceful. He caught himself a second later. Shame took over him. “Sorry.” He let go at once.

“No, I am sorry, man. I shouldn’t have touched you. Just speaking about it probably gives you the chills.” 

Josh didn’t deny it.

“I know it’s super personal, but, do you get any help?” The waitress leaned closer to him. Her friend who was sitting next to her turned to listen to their conversation, although she said nothing. 

Josh just frowned at her in confusion.

“You obviously have Trauma.”

Josh’s frown just got deeper. “I don’t.”

“Dude.” Kitchen guy leaned back on the stool. “You’ve been jumping that leg since your scar was mentioned.”

Josh realised that was true. He stopped immediately. 

“It’s none of our business.” The barman said. 

“C’mone.” The waitress made a face, her eyes shining with determination. “Soldiers are our responsibility even after they finish their service. This is my business as it is anyone with decency to them.”

“You were a soldier, too.” Kitchen guy jumped in.

“Not a  _ combat _ soldier.”

“I don’t need help, or… whatever.”

“There is no shame in getting therapy.” The waitress crossed her arms, as if Josh was personally offending her. 

“It’s not your place to tell him what to do.” The barman insisted. 

Josh was thankful for the loud music and the noise, only their very corner of the table seemed to be able to hear any of this. 

He glanced at his watch. At this pace, this conversation was leading them towards tomorrow. Josh wasn’t sure he wanted to stay for that long. 

Just as he began to stand up - the party girl, at the far side of their group, said they were heading to a dance club next. 

A golden opportunity to leave. 

As if reading his mind, the waitress and her friend came to stand by his side. “Come with us.” 

Her friend nodded her head and smiled at him.

“I’m kind of tired.” 

“Bullshit.” Kitchen guy slapped his back, Josh flinched. “It’s barely twelve.”

Josh, reluctantly, joined them as they all caught cabs that took them to the southern parts of Tel Aviv. 

Josh was familiar with the club they chose to go to. Back in the service his pals loved that one. The girls were all pretty, and after a few drink and a lot of dancing, finding a one-night stand was easier. 

It was busy that night, very busy. Josh wondered how many people were allowed inside, as the place was already packed - and a line was forming outside. 

Inside, it was sweaty, and there were moments when Josh felt like there was simply not enough air. 

Josh danced, a little. He mostly just looked at his watch. The last bus was already gone, he tried to calculate in his head how long it would take with a rented e-scooter.

At one point someone said he lives in Givatayim, and he would take Josh when they were done. After that Josh stayed only for the lift. 

They drank a lot, Josh had no idea who was paying. Everyone were kind of drunk. The glasses kept on coming, Josh was urged to take a part of it, he managed. 

At one of his breaks to the bathroom, he saw the friend of the too-friendly waitress, the quiet one. A stranger man was leaning over her as she was standing with her back to the wall, her eyes frantically looking to the sides, obviously needing help. 

With a sigh, Josh approached. “Hello.” He smiled, as he came to lean on the wall next to them, too close for them not to notice him. 

“Josh!” She looked so  _ glad _ to see him. 

“You’re the Boyfriend?” The guy’s voice was muffled with the music, but Josh read his lips well enough.

The girl stretched her hand towards him, Josh grasped it. 

He wasn’t the only one who grabbed her hand. The rude guy tried to pry her and Josh off each other, obviously causing her pain in the process. 

“Piss off!” The guy shouted hard enough that even Josh could hear him. The girl looked practically terrified at this point. 

“Man, she’s not interested.”

“Fuck you!”

Josh grimaced. “You’re drunk, where are your friends?”

The guy turned to the girl again, ignoring him. 

Josh prepared himself for pain, as he took a single stride forward, causing the stranger to confusingly take an unstable step back. He looked too drunk to be aware of his actions. 

The stranger lifted his arm. Josh saw that punch coming from miles away, didn't make it any less annoying to avoid it though. 

What Josh didn't see coming, was the stranger’s friends. They gathered around as if they were always there, smelling fight in the air. One of them pushed the drunk guy none too gently, yelling at him to keep going. 

Josh glanced down to the girl. He touched her shoulder, shouted at her through the music to get away. 

She managed to nod at him hysterically before her eyes widened, looking over his shoulder- 

Josh was pushed from behind. He had a second to think that whoever did this was a complete idiot, before his gut was punched. Hard. 

Josh gasped around it, getting a tunnel vision from the surprise and pain. He glared up just as someone thought it was a good idea to punch his face.

It was a turning point. Because now Josh had no chance of getting out of this without fighting back. He tasted blood as he forced himself to recover at high speed and began laying his fists on whoever was near him, in whatever way he thought would be effective. 

With burning lungs, unblinking eyes, Josh couldn’t release the tension in his arms. His sight became a landfield of targets, his eyes focused on a shoulder to dislocate, a nose to break, and knee to kick in the wrong direction. 

He was grabbed from behind and he brought his head back, barely registering the echo of fierce pain. Someone tried to grab him again, more than a single person. Josh kicked, he screamed, he scratched. 

When he was pinned to the ground, he was just a bit surprised to see three grown men on top of him. 

Josh continued to struggle for what felt like hours.

Right until the cops and paramedics came. 

*

*

Getting to the station was a blur of streetlights and harsh spoken words.

“What’s your name?”

“Where’ya from?”

“Breath into this.”

“Look me in the eyes, son, I’m just trying to help.”

Someone grabbed his wallet from his jeans pocket. Josh thought vaguely that he should say something, or do something to resist. When he tried to move his hands, he realised they were cuffed behind his back. He struggled weakly, the chain rattled a bit. 

They dragged him out of the car, a few steps and they were in a brightly lit lobby. The white lights made Josh wince with approaching headache. 

“Call the in-dutie paramedics.”

Josh registered two pairs of hands holding each side of him, guiding him to a room with a less intense lights, a few sofas and an old, crappy television. 

Someone shoved a plastic cup in his face. “Drink.”

Josh tried, most of it just dripped down his chin and soaked into his shirt. It was cold water, and it felt nice against his overheated skin - against this constant sting on his lip, on the inside of his cheek. 

Then, gloved hands shoved his head gently back, to lean on the cozy sofa. “This might feel uncomfortable, bear with me.” And without further warning, a blaring light shone right into his eyes, one by one. Josh winced and blinked. His headache becoming worse. 

“No concussion.”

“Does he need the hospital?”

“Let’s make sure there’s no immediate danger. Maybe he’ll need to get an CT tomorrow, just to be safe.”

At this, Josh was told to rest. He was left in the tv room, and one of the paramedics promised to make sure he would get food in the morning. 

It seemed to be the break room for the officers, a few of them came in and out, making coffee for themselves or grabbing a snack from the fridge.

Josh was grimmly coming to terms with the possibility of charges coming up against him. His body was beginning to take note of all the injuries. By the time his head was clear enough to look around and ask questions, he was practically miserable. 

“Will I need a lawyer?” He asked a passing officer. 

She considered him for a moment, then hummed. “You can get a phone call, if you'd like.”

“I don’t have a lawyer.”

“We’d just want to make sure you’re not dangerous, before we let you go. At this point you are arrested for investigation, this won’t last for more than forty-eight hours. Do you have anyone else you would wish to call? Your boss, maybe?”

Josh shook his head slowly, and she left. 

The silence was good for his headache, and the soft cushions of the sofa were so comfortable he actually nodded off. 

He blinked in alarm when people entered the room, speaking loudly.

“How many times have you been here this year?” Someone asked aggressively. Josh noticed a small person standing by the entrance, the officer was hiding him from view. 

“A few.”

“Could you  _ please _ cooperate with social workers? Each time we bring you here you manage to somehow get out and back to the streets, it’s already irritating, do you even understand that?”

The officer moved, revealing a young man who Josh recognized immediately. He froze when their eyes met, only for Talin to smile broadly at him. 

“What a handsome man.” Talin winked, and came to sit on the other sofa, in front of Josh.

“No weird Homo stuff in here.” The officer barked as he put a capsule in the espresso machine, turning with narrowed eyes to look at Talin. 

“I know how to behave myself.” Talin brushed non-existing dirt from his knees. 

“Well, aren’t you a pair.”

Josh looked at Talin, taking him in. He was wearing shiny black pants that were obviously supposed to be tight - but were a bit loose around his knees and hips from how skinny he was.  His shirt was a somewhat transparent thing that hang off one shoulder and looked…Josh swallowed. Well, there was no denying it, Talin was sexy, had that air to him. Josh put two and two together. “Prostitution?” 

Talin licked his lips, giving Josh a  _ look _ through hooded eyes. Did he wear makeup? “Do you recognize a male prostitute, when you see one?”

“I sure recognize  _ you _ .” Josh huffed. 

“Do you two know each other?” The officer was now looking at Josh, his guard up.

“I can assure you he’s not a client of mine.” Talin scoffed with humour, dismissing the officer with a wave of his hand. “He’s from the community, not the business.” The officer seemed settled at once. 

A few moments passed with them mutually remaining quiet, staring silently at the mute tv. The other officer remained in the room, drinking his coffee and typing on his phone. 

“Had a rough night?” Talin asked at last, leaning back on the sofa, staring at Josh. 

“You could say that.” Josh glanced at the officer, who lifted his eyes to them.

“I heard they brought some of the other guys in.” The officer said. “They had to go straight to the hospital first, you did some damage. But it seems like despite you being disturbingly good at a fight, you did nothing wrong.”

“Oh, he’s good.” Talin nodded, his eyes, smiling. “Very protective.” 

“Yeah, actually.” The officer said, frowning at Talin. “A girl there said he tried to pry off an aggressive guy at the party and it escalated. How did you guess?”

Talin shrugged. “Maybe you should believe that girl, just saying.” 

The officer nodded, looking down to his phone again. 

It was a few minutes later that the officer went out, he cuffed Talin’s hands together in front of him and warned him against making trouble. Talin just winked and smiled. 

“You’re here often?” Josh asked as soon as the door was closed.

Talin shrugged one shoulder, bringing the shirt a centimeter down - showing more of his skin. “Sure.” 

“How come?” 

“They know where I work, and whenever they have time to spare they come to visit. If they find me working, they arrest the other guy and bring me in to speak to a social worker.” 

He really had such a pleasant face. Seeing him now in this bright room, Josh couldn’t imagine someone so charming getting paid to have sex with strangers in dark rooms in the public central station. 

“How are you?” Josh asked, finding that he truly was concerned.

Talin made a face. “Just fine, actually. I’m being brought here every two months or so. They try to tell me that sex is no business anyone should be doing. I try to remind them I’m an adult.”

“Are you, though?”

“What, of course.” Talin smiled, his eyes twinkling. “I’m Twenty, can’t you tell?”

“Is that what your papers say?”

“That’s what  _ I _ say. But yes, it’s in my papers.” 

Josh hummed. “I found Ronny, by the way. Thank you for the help.”

Talin’s expression shifted, his smile losing it’s glamour. “Your brother, Good for him.” 

Josh was curious, wanted to ask Talin why he looked disturbed. Before he managed - the same officer that came in with Talin opened the door again. He pointed at Josh. “We just received your papers, you’re gonna stay in for the night so we can keep an eye on any worsening in your condition, and then let you go. Do you want a bunk?” 

“What time is it?” 

“Three.”

“Then I’m good.”

“You, on the other hand.” The officer looked sternly at Talin, lifting an eyebrow. “We got permission to hold a meeting between you and a social worker.” 

Talin groaned dramatically and rolled his eyes to the ceiling. Josh smiled.

“Yes, you should be grateful. Do  _ you _ want a bunk?” 

“I’m good.” Talin pouted, mimicking Josh. 

“Fucking fine,then. No Homo stuff in the break room.” And with that the officer left them alone once again. 

“So, a party, yeah?” 

“Someone from work had a birthday party.” 

“You work around here?” 

“Yeah, waiting tables. Keeping watch over my brother.”

“You really found him.” Talin watched him, something intense in his gaze that made Josh wary. 

“Wasn’t easy. Had to... persuade some people to help me.”

“Like me?”

“Kind of.” Josh chuckled. 

“And they did?”

Josh shrugged without answering verbally. 

Talin made an impressed face. 

And then he said: “Do you ever wanna hook up?” 

Josh blinked. “With you?” 

Talin smiled, it was small, not even revealing his teeth. Josh found it beautiful. 

“You have my phone number.” Josh reminded him.

“Didn’t think you were still alive.” Talin bit his lip, then broke eye contact. “I liked you, though.” 

Josh didn’t know what to say to that, so he said nothing. 

“Life is short.” Talin nodded his head solemnly. 

Josh frowned, unsure.

“Just the other day, I saw one of the regular boys dead after an overdose.”

“Regular boys?”

“You know, teenage dealers.” 

Josh swallowed. Talin was looking at him. Josh couldn’t tear his eyes away.

“You should watch your brother, it could as well have been him.”

Josh tensed. “Don’t they have microphones in here?”

“It’s a break room. It’s illegal to tape workers on the job.” 

It absurdly made sense. “Fine. Don’t worry about my brother” 

Talin swiped his tongue over the corners of his lips. “It’s addictive, this line of work.”

“Drugs?”

“Anything illegal.” 

Josh felt  _ very _ uncomfortable having this conversation in a place roaming with police officers. Whether someone was taping them or not, it just felt unsafe. 

“You meet some super hot guys.”

Josh laughed despite himself, and Talin smiled. 

Sahar came to Josh’s mind. Josh found himself staring at the wall blankly, feeling dissociated and numb. 

It was addictive, wasn’t it? Fighting, dealing, prostituting. Having a crush on danger, feeling the pull of it in your gut like an urge you had to satisfy. 

“Yeah.” 

“You know the feeling?” Talin asked as if he already knew the answer. Josh wondered if he was just faking it to look strong, or if Josh was really that easy to read. 

“Unfortunately.” 

“Who helped you? With your brother, I mean.” 

“Just this dude.” 

“Was he hot?” Talin asked and laughed, not taking himself seriously. When he saw Josh’s face, though, he stopped laughing abruptly. “What?” 

“His name’s Sahar.” 

The smiled was wiped off Talin’s face in a second. He watched Josh from the other sofa, remaining silent for a long while. 

Josh realised Talin must know Sahar, too. Obviously, if Talin was one of the refugees that lived in the abandoned floors of the building where Josh found Ronny - then he  _ must _ know Sahar. There was no way he  _ wouldn’t _ . 

“I guess he’s hot.” Josh smiled, trying to lift the heavy atmosphere that came upon them at Sahar’s name. 

“And much more than  _ hot _ . He’s…” Talin frowned. It was the first time Josh saw him looking uncomfortable. 

Something in his stomach sank. “What?” 

“He’s bloody terrifying. Is what he is. How the fuck did you come to know him?” 

Josh swallowed, unsure. “I’m not sure I want to talk about that.” 

“And he helped you?” 

“He asked for ransom, over my brother. I wouldn’t call it exactly helping.”

Talin released a single bark of laughter, without any humour or good feeling behind it. “You should be thankful your brother is even alive.”

“I am, thankful.” 

“How are  _ you _ alive, though?”

Josh found the question disturbing and disorienting. “You really expected me to die?” 

“Couldn’t say I didn’t, honestly.” 

“Do a lot of people around you die?” 

Talin leaned back on the sofa. His elegant long limbs arranging themselves naturally like a model on the cover of a magazine. “When it comes to people like your hot guy Sahar, people tend to turn up dead more often than not.” 

“You know him personally, then?”

Talin made a gesture that Josh couldn’t read, something between a shrug and a thoughtful nod of his head. “He… he’s something.”

That was probably all the answer Josh was going to get. “He offered me to work for him.” Josh said, unsure of whether he should even bring it up. He felt like it was sitting at the back of his mind constantly for the past few weeks, and the more he couldn’t talk about it with anyone just made him crave talking about it more. 

Talin knew Sahar, knew this line of business, even if from slightly a different angle. He knew the people working there, knew what Josh was talking about. The risks, the passion of it, the addiction, the excitement. 

“You said you’re waiting tables now.”

“I told him no.”

Talin’s lips pressed together thinly. “Did you two fuck?” 

“What?” Josh was immediately flush with embarrassment. “No.” 

When Talin said nothing, Josh asked him - “Why?”

Talin shrugged one shoulder. “Just assuming, you know.” 

“No, we didn’t… no.” Josh shook his head. 

“Why did you say ‘no’ to the job?” 

“He seems dangerous, and selfish. I wouldn’t trust him.” 

Talin made a face. “This is the kind of persona you need to take, if you want to survive, you know.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t do it because he needs to survive, he’s doing illegal shit because he  _ wants _ to do it. It’s not the same with him as it is with you.” 

“You thought about saying ‘yes’?” 

Josh swallowed. “I’m still thinking about it.” 

Talin looked at him silently for a long time. “You look the type, I thought it when you first came at me.” 

“I look the type?”

“To be caught in someone’s hook. Especially someone like him.”

Josh felt like Talin was trying to tell him that he’s stupid, or something. Josh sure felt that way. 

“The need to go back and tell him ‘yes’ won’t go away.” Talin said, still gazing at Josh steadily. “If it hadn’t faded away through all this time.” 

“No, I guess you’re right.” 

“You still want to get up to some sexy trouble, though, with me- right?” Talin smiled, and all at once Josh felt himself relaxing, smiling back.

“You look too young.” 

“Oh, fuck you. I really miss your throat.” 

Josh’s face grew hot with mortification and something else. He felt Talin’s words deep down, traveling to his groin even as Josh couldn’t believe someone would just say something so… gross, so openly. 

“Damn, I’m hard.” Talin complained as he shifted to make space for the erection that was clearly visible through the thin material of his pants. “Wanna go to the bathroom?” 

Josh laughed despite himself, shaking his head as he averted his eyes to look at the tv instead.

They stayed in the same room for the next few hours, until morning came and Josh was checked by a police paramedic again, just to make sure he was fine.

An officer told him he would be able to press charges against the other guys from the club, and he confirmed that it wasn’t an issue nor his intention. 

His phone and wallet were returned to him. The phone ran out of battery. 

Josh still felt numb. His conversation with Talin not leaving him. The ground he was standing on felt unsteady, unreliable. 

He had to breath through the amount of emotion he was feeling. The numbness he forced on himself in the last few weeks evaporated at once - leaving him unstable and confused. 

The bus back to his mother’s apartment took a long route, and Josh was left with too much time to think and re-think and think some more and then think so much it was driving him mad. 

There was no passing mark to this test. All the answers were wrong. No matter what he’ll choose to do he’ll feel like he was failing. 

When he got home, the apartment was empty. His mother probably had a meeting with a doctor or something, his brother probably left for school. 

When Josh charged his phone, he received about a hundred notifications of missed calls and text messages. He texted his Mother to tell her he was fine. He texted his boss from the restaurant to tell him he was leaving the job. 

He called Sahar’s number - his heart pounding away in his chest like a hammer. 

Sahar didn’t answer. 

Fucking -

Josh grasped the phone with both hands and held it in front of him. Something in him wanting to just throw this fucking device at the floor and break it. 

He took a gasping breath, something twisting his his chest so tightly it was beginning to hurt. 

The phone began to vibrate with an incoming call. The number familiar. Sahar.

Josh answered, his hand shaking. 

“I wished you’d call.” Sahar said from the other side of the line, his voice a bit hoarse. Josh probably woke him up. 

“I think we should meet.”

“I still have your Ten thousand.” Sahar said, as if Josh said nothing. “It’s yours if you say ‘yes’.”

Josh felt choked up and breathless and lost and there was no one out there who could find him and set him right again. “Yes.” 

“Good, good.” There was noise, like Sahar was moving around. “Do you want to come over?” 

“Okay.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here it is. I'd love to hear what you think.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the support. This is a hard time for all of us. I still work from home, and the work just seems to pile up more and more. I make time for this story, but I do apologize for the long pause in updates, I'm going to have more free time soon.

The way to Sahar’s apartment felt like a scene from someone else’s life. Josh caught the first bus at the bus stop near his mother’s home, not giving himself time for hesitation. He knew that if he left too much space for thoughts - those thoughts would eventually infect him from the inside, wouldn’t let him make the right decisions with a cool head. 

Unfortunately, the bus ride seemed like just the thing that would make Josh invert into his own mind. He tried to distract himself as much as he could by looking through the window, but he didn’t catch any detail. He was drifting, and it was a dangerous time to think. He could think later.

_ Later _ .

People went up, people went off, and Josh was still by the window.

He wondered if Sahar was surprised to receive his call. Did he expect Josh to forget about his offer?  _ Was Josh supposed to forget? _ Did the man find it weird, or pathetic, that Josh would call him seemingly out of nowhere, and ask to meet him?

Sahar accepted the call, and he  _ did _ invite Josh to come over without much bullshitting. So that might be answer enough - if Josh would let himself be optimistic.

Another thing pressing on his mind was guilt. Was he supposed to tell his mother and Ronny that he quit the job at the restaurant? Was he supposed to tell them that he got into a fight in a club? Arrested? (He was still black and blue from the punches he received. Deep in his heart he hoped he caused more damage to the other guys.)

He knew, in a nasty kind of way that people sometimes knew about themselves, when they were being honest, that he wouldn’t share with his family - anything about his involvement with Sahar, or about the two of them communicating with each other to begin with. 

Truly, his family was never aware of his private life before, so there wasn’t really a reason why Josh should start to include them  _ now _ . 

_ Wouldn’t it be better if they knew about it, in case you’ve gone missing? _

Yes, that was another doubt to add to the pile.

What exactly was this job that Sahar was offering him? It was obviously something illegal, Josh would find it  _ very _ unexpected if it turned out to be a decent job, and not a shady one. 

Josh was good at shady jobs, did them for a while whenever he needed the money. But something told him that the thing he was getting himself into would be on a larger scale. Far larger. It’s not as if he knew shit about crime families and organizations in this country (or in any country, except in movies and such) so, he wasn’t even sure what they would be doing in the first place. Drug smuggling? Why would they need Josh for that? Maybe securing devices against government hackers? 

Probably, very possibly the case. Josh could dig that, it was something he could do without sweating. Get some money out of it - enough to live by. Until he found something else. It could be fun.

Josh was almost convinced, almost. 

The bus ride took too long, leaving Josh with only his head as his company. By the time they reached his stop - he was already agitated enough that he jumped from his seat, getting off the bus in a rush and starting the long walk towards the Old City. Only after about a kilometer he found himself relaxing a bit, his pace slowing down. 

The sun was high in the sky, heating everything up - Josh included. 

Angry waves crashed at the sea, as if mimicking Josh’s loud uncertainties. 

The small alley leading to Sahar’s ancient apartment complex was packed with loud tourists. Josh tried to politely push his way through the crowd, being poked with a walking stick and stabbed with cameras from all directions. By the time he reached Sahar’s door, he was cursing under his breath. 

Then he was brought into a halt, when seeing Sahar leaning against one of the stone walls, gazing at the tourists around his apartment with a calm air to him, having the classic detachment and indifference of a local. 

After slight hesitation, Josh approached him, having no idea what to say. Frankly, caught off guard at seeing the man waiting outside for him. He didn't get a chance to check his appearance, make sure he didn’t look horrible (he probably did). He was still phrasing different options of greetings that would be less awkward - when Sahar noticed him. 

Josh could see that Sahar recognized him immediately. And the way he smiled - something that managed to look unfriendly even as it stretched his lips - put Josh on edge. Josh forced himself to continue walking, forced his face into neutrality. He wasn’t sure he was doing a very good job. Sahar’s gaze was so direct that it felt impossible to meet his eyes.

His eyes, they were very blue, reflecting the skies. His pose was relaxed. And yet, that smile. There was aggression in the lax way he leaned against the wall. Josh felt trapped even as he was that one approaching, and he wasn’t even the one who had a wall behind him. 

There was something about him that still made Josh tense and on high alert. Sahar had managed to imprint himself as a force of sudden violence and fierce aggression, in Josh’s mind - he would always be the gangster who had threatened to kill him, who refused to help him find his brother, who made him lose consciousness with a single, well aimed, hit to his head. 

Josh let his eyes glance briefly at the man’s waist, there was no outline of a gun.

“So, you called.” Sahar narrowed his eyes at him when Josh was close enough. 

No greetings, then. Josh swallowed his nerves. “I did.” 

“Are you serious about this?” 

Was he? Yes. No. Maybe. Yes. “Yes.”

“I hope for you that you are, otherwise you really shouldn’t have bothered me.” 

Was he  _ trying _ to make Josh chicken out? “I am serious.” 

“Fine, then. Come along.” 

Sahar turned and started walking, Josh found it surprising, but hurried to follow behind.

They exited the alley, went up the stairs into the dense parts of the old city, up and up and up the steep stone stairs. Josh’s knees screamed, his breath came in gasps, he was still aching all over from the fight in the club, trying to keep dignity by holding his head high and his pace steady, but it was obvious he was not up for this kind of physical exertion. 

Sahar didn’t seem to even notice the climb. One moment he was looking behind his shoulder to see if Josh managed to keep up - and the next he was taking a sharp turn towards a regular street outside the walls of the old city. 

The sound of traffic and pedestrians hit Josh like a slap to the face, but he didn’t have time to get used to it again - he had to keep up with Sahar, as the man barely glanced at the road before crossing it, his steps sure.

Josh began to get more and more curious as to where they were going, but was reluctant of asking questions. Something about the excitement and the mystery appealed to him. He was maybe afraid, a little. At a corner of his mind he realised he was potentially walking into a very dangerous situation… 

But he couldn’t ignore the feeling that he had about this, about this supposedly ‘job offer’ Sahar proposed to him almost a month ago, a job he hasn’t withdrawn even after all this time had passed. Josh wanted to find out what it was.

And, a traitorous part of him admitted, maybe he just liked the danger of it. 

Josh gazed at the back of Sahar’s head. Watched as the man walked down the cobblestone sidewalks. How the sun hit his shoulders in his black tank top. It was so much easier when Sahar’s attention was lying elsewhere - and Josh didn’t have to deal with those eyes. 

They walked through the popular streets, where the shops and markets were. Down back alleys of businesses and offices, around a park, and finally stopped in front of a small, old house that looked just as plain and insignificant as all the other houses down the road. 

“Okay.” Sahar turned to look at him. Engaging him for the first time since they met outside his apartment. “You can either walk away now, or come inside. I’m just gonna say it as it is: I will completely understand it if you wish to walk away - and I will not take it very well if you choose to come inside, and then bail out on me in ten minutes.” 

“I want to come in.” Josh heard himself say, even as a part of him  _ begged _ for more time to consider. 

Sahar stared at him, as if he could hear the doubt in his voice. But then he nodded his head in a small jerk. He turned, fiddled with the large, clumsy looking lock on the old industrial sliding door. The screeching noise filled the street when Sahar pushed the door open, it was grinding against cobbles and the unoiled hinge.

Unexpectedly, It revealed a small entry of white walls, warm light flowing in through the narrow windows above the doorsill, the floor was old and had cracks in it - but the tiles were in different, boho style patterns and paintings. A few indoor plants were hanging from the ceiling. There were stairs - going both up to a second floor, and down to what was probably a basement. There was a lot of natural light, considering the size of the room. 

Josh didn’t miss the few cameras, and other blinking detectors, that were put around.

No one would have suspected anything unusual about this old entrance, without going inside, first. 

There was a bleep as Sahar put his finger to a small black cube, and a green light appeared over both the staircases.

“Metal detectors, so if you’re carrying anything you shouldn’t, the gates lock.” He pointed to two gates further up, and down - where both the staircases curved. 

Sahar went up. 

Following behind, Josh was a bit glad for them going up and not down. He did not wish to walk into anyone’s dungeon. 

Someone greeted Sahar on the second floor. When Josh climbed after him a moment later, he was met with a young man - who looked younger than Josh, but it was hard to judge. He certainly was shorter, and his eyes were big and green. His hair fell around his face onto his shoulders in dirty blond locks. 

He had sleeves of tattoos running down his arms. When he waved in awkward gesture for hello, Josh smiled at him. His smile was returned, and the man relaxed at once. 

“Josh, Alli. Get to know each other.” And with that Sahar went deeper into the spacious room. Curtains hid a whole section on one of the walls, probably shielding huge windows.  Josh looked around, saw desks with computers and screens and cables taking most of the space, like some sci-fi film. Just that… it looked very homey. The office chairs were in warm colors, there were pillows and blankets thrown around. The floor was covered in blond parquet. 

“Name’s Alex.” Alex stretched his hand for a shake with a brilliant smile. He had heavy accent, Josh guessed East Europe, Russia most likely. 

“Josh.”

“Great. I guess that you came here because you plan to start working with us?” 

He made it sound harmless, as if there was nothing out of the ordinary in their line of work.

But what did Josh know? 

“I guess.”

“Good.”

“I didn’t take down his details.” Sahar was pouring hot water into three large cups. The smell of instant coffee rose in the air.

“Well, now’s a good time as any.” Allex pointed Josh towards a small sitting area by an open window. “Let me get the paperwork ready.”

Josh sat obediently, looking around with curious eyes. There were more plants around the room, washing the already comfy-looking office with fresh green. 

A steaming cup was set in front of him on the table, and Sahar sat down facing him. “It’s a good job.” He said seriously. “Good money, too.” 

Josh forced himself to focus on the conversation, it was surprisingly difficult. He did need the money, though. “How much are we talking about?”

“Well, since you seem to at least know what you are doing, we’ll give you a month trial with twenty thousand-” Josh was glad he wasn’t drinking yet, because he would surely choke up on that- “and if you seem like you can handle, it’ll rise.” 

Twenty thousand was about what Josh did in two months of extra shifts. And when taking down the several taxes, it was  _ three months _ . Josh held his breath, trying not to show his surprise. 

It it was such good money, it was  _ so worth the risk _ of maybe getting caught. 

“Fingerprints, please.” Allex arrived with some hi-tech tablet, handed it to Josh. 

There was a silhouette of a palm on the screen, Josh touched it with his own - pressing slightly. 

“Now the other one.” 

Josh pressed his other hand, too. 

“Your passport, it’s Israeli?”

“Yes.”

Allex sat down, sipping loudly from his cup of what appeared to be dark pink tea. And then he asked: “Any other citizenships?” 

“No.”

“Is your passport biometric?” 

Josh shook his head.

“We’ll have to order you one, we’ll pay, of course.” Allex said casually, before looking down to his tablet and pressing something. Then he gave Josh the tablet again. “Make sure all the details are correct.”

Josh looked down, started reading, and then felt himself pale.

They had… his life, in a few sheets of document. 

All the illegal jobs he did on the side, the personal information he sold and the amounts of money he got from it, where he kept it.

His elementary school. High school. His unit in the army, all the small details like dates and phone numbers. They knew who his teachers were, what his grades were, all his work places. All his bank account details. Everything about his family, what pills his mother was pescripted to. 

They had details about Gaza. His hospitalization, who died, who lived. 

Everything from the meeting with the military psychiatrist. 

Everything. 

At the section of friends, there was ‘none’ written black on white.

“Who wrote this?” Josh’s hand was slightly shaking. 

“We have our people, don’t worry, we didn’t read it ourselves.” Allex said, sounding sympathetic. 

“We really haven’t.” Sahar murmured. Josh lifted his eyes to look at him. “I hope you understand.” 

Josh swallowed, feeling sick.

He was required to press a fingertip at the end of the document. He did. 

“From now on you can come inside, as long as the doors at the front are already open.” Allex took the tablet from Josh’s hands, shutting it off. “I’ll give you a key once your month’s trial is finished.”

“We need to put a few things down on the table.” Sahar leaned forward, crossing his hands on the tabletop.

Josh blinked, trying not to get distracted by how handsome he looked, with the light from the window hitting the side of his face. Josh was still feeling slightly sick, there was sweat gathering on the palms of his hands, he discreetly rubbed them on his jeans. 

“This amount of money is prone to draw attention.” Sahar continued. “If you stay with us, it’ll be much more than twenty a month-” Josh’s heart jumped a beat in his chest, thinking  _ how much more, exactly? _ \- “and we need to make sure we have a safe place to send it to. Somewhere private.”

“Most people have bank accounts in different servers. Bitcoin became popular recently. But if you prefer other alternatives, we’ll make sure to help you with that.” Allex almost finished his tea, Josh didn’t even start drinking his own coffee. 

“I've done this before.” Josh took a sip, thinking. “For now, I’ll use an account I opened on a server in Japan.”

Sahar laughed, surprised. “Japan?”

“How come?” Alex frowned, looking at Josh curiously. 

Josh was momentarily caught by the complicated designs of Alex’s several tattoos, as they stretched on his skin, the sun turning them vibrant and alive. He blinked. “An account I opened through Hentai Anime games.” 

Sahar narrowed his eyes. “A what? What’s Hatinime?” 

Allex laughed in avident delight, staring at Josh with disbelief and joy written all over his wide eyes. Josh held back his smile as he answered: “Computer games.”

Sahar glanced at Allex, who was still shaking with laughter. “Whatever you fucking say, as long as it’s safe.”

“Boomers.” Allex shook his head, glancing at Sahar mischievously. Sahar caught his glance and glared. Alex’s laughter only turned louder. “I’ll check it to see if it’s safe.”

Josh shrugged.

“Is it this thing that you do, when you speak gibberish and feel smarter than everyone?” Sahar sighed, gulped the rest of his instant coffee down, before slamming the cup on the table and getting up - the chair screeching on the floor. “C’mone, I’ll show you around.” He nodded at Josh, and gestured at the rest of the room. 

Josh was a bit reluctant to follow. 

When around Allex, Sahar seemed to be acting far more decently. And anyway, Allex seemed like a really nice guy to talk to. 

If Josh were to work here from now on - they will get more time to get to know each other in the next few days - he told himself, as he got up slowly. 

“Alli will give you a tour around this office when you start working.” Sahar said without looking behind his shoulder, descending the stairs two at a time, Josh right behind him. “But we have a section downstairs I want to show you.”

“Is this going to be a torture dungeon?” Josh asked dryly when it became apparent they were finally going down to the mysterious lowest floor.

Sahar laughed. “Nothing like that, no.” 

When they reached the basement, Sahar turned on the lights. 

“Oh.” Josh blinked his eyes against the bright light. It was a small, overcrowded room. Crates and boxes were piled by the walls, some stacks reaching the low ceiling. A blank door stood right ahead, with fire emergency tools and gardening tools leaning against it and blocking the way. 

“The Servers room. It’s fucking freezing in there, but I have to show you what to do in case there’s a fire, or something. The whole gear is a few millions worth. So we keep it all very proper and whatnot.” 

“Of course.” Josh’s interest had peaked, and he struggled to keep his voice as neutral as possible. These people had their own servers, plural. 

They had resources and money beyond Josh’s imagination. He couldn’t decide whether it made him more nervous, or more excited, maybe both? Anticipation, and a tiny voice at the back of his head whispering ‘it smells like a bad decision’. 

Sahar showed him around the servers room, it  _ was _ very cold. They kept it short. Sahar had to raise his voice over the noise. 

Then they got out of the building, into the picturesquare road with the peeling-paint walls and sinking rooftops. 

“When do you expect to start working?” Sahar said when they stood outside - the heat of the sun immediately melting them down from the freezing cold of the servers room. 

The heat soon turned from a blessing into a nuisance, Josh was sweating under his armpits in under ten seconds. 

He watched Sahar popping a nicotine gum into his mouth, wondered if that - like the instant coffee - was his thing. Sahar offered him one, Josh declined. “I’m currently unemployed -” Sahar snorted in laughter, Josh glared. “So there’s no problem for me to start even tomorrow.” 

“Tell you what,” Sahar puffed his tank-top, trying to ventilate his torso. Josh’s eyes drank in the few glimpses of extra skin. Sahar seemed oblivious to his gaze. “It’s the middle of the month already, why don’t you take the two weeks off, for some vacation time, start next month, yes?” 

Josh clenched his jaws, calculations already running through his head, thinking about the few meager savings in his bank account he would need to empty - in order to pass the rest of the month without working. 

_ Not that any of that would matter, soon he’ll have more money than he knows what to do with. _

Josh would probably be able to end his mother’s mortgage by the end of the year, buy his own apartment within  _ five _ years. 

“Sounds okay.” Sahar was looking at him now. 

It felt like it was the first time their eyes truly met ever since Josh had arrived by Sahar’s apartment. 

His gaze was sharp, Josh felt all the nerves from the bus ride earlier filling his stomach all over again. Sahar obviously studied his face, not even trying to hide it. 

The silence stretched, every second passing feeling like eternity. 

“Should I go?” Josh asked, his voice coming out soft, he swallowed the urge to cough to clear his throat.

“I thought you were going to suggest something else.” 

Confusion soon turned into a warm feeling down in his gut. Josh felt himself blush. “What?” 

There was a twitch in his abdomen, as if Sahar had lit something in there with just his words. Josh couldn’t believe it was happening to him, couldn’t believe his body was reacting without his permission. 

As it was simply impossible for him to actually have a crush on this man. To feel something beyond a shallow attraction. To get turned on from simple words. 

Sahar smiled in a sinister way, like he knew exactly what he was doing to Josh, knew what caos he was bringing forth with his absurd implications. “See you around, Josh.” He said, a smile still stretching his lips even as he turned away and back into the building.

The loud grinding noise from the metal door was like a gong at the end of a match - leaving behind it only an empty silence. 

After standing there for a while, shocked, Josh blinked his eyes against the rays of the sun, could hear the chirping birds, and the sound of distant traffic again. 

The breath he took felt like a cold balm on his insides. The beating of his heart like a hammer in his chest, still going even minutes later. 

*

*

Ronny wasn’t home. 

His mother said he was over at friends.

Josh asked her how she knew.

She just shrugged. 

Hours later, into the night, the lock on the front door rattled. Ronny waltzed in, accompanied by the stench of alcohol and weed. 

His brother stopped dead when he saw Josh leaning against the table. “The fuck.” Ronny whispered angrily at him. The apartment was  _ dark _ , Josh was probably painted by the moonlight in a morbid scene.

“What time is it?” Josh asked rhetorically. He didn’t care, he just wanted to see if Ronny knew. 

“Does it matter? It’s friday.”

Josh shrugged. “Can’t you answer?”

“Check the fucking clock.” Ronny still whispered, his voice turning raspy. 

He was high. 

Josh followed him as he stumbled down the corridor, into the shower. Ronny tried to shut the door in his face, Josh forced his way in, anyway. 

“Throw up, into the toilet.”

Ronny made a face.

“You might faint in the shower, throw up first.”

“That’s disgusting.” Ronny wobbled on his feet as he tried to take off his shoes, without unlacing them first. After two seconds he let himself fall to the floor.

Josh hoped their mother wouldn’t wake up from the thump.

“Do you want me to bend you over, or can you manage by yourself?” 

Ronny couldn’t even manage to take off his own shoes. Josh didn’t offer to help. 

After a minute, Ronny started crying. Sobbing wordlessly.

Josh sighed. “C’mone.” He helped Ronny get up on his feet - holding him by his arms. Josh wrinkled his nose at the stench. Ronny smelled more like a homeless person than anything. 

Dragging Ronny to the toilet was harder than Josh initially thought it would be. Ronny wasn’t cooperating, but at least he wasn’t struggling, much. His sobs soon turned into coughs. 

They were both caught off guard when Ronny started vomiting the moment they reached the vicinity of the toilet. Josh hurried to bend him over, holding him and averting his eyes. It was disgusting, and the  _ smell of it _ . Josh hadn’t had the chance to lift the toilet sit. 

“Shit.” Ronny coughed, tears falling down. 

Josh pulled the niagara without looking. “Lean over the sink and wash your face. I’m getting cleaning supplies from the closet.”

Josh sneaked out to the dark corridor. He waited a moment to see if he heard any weird noises coming from his mother's bedroom, before sneaking back into the bathroom. 

Ronny was right where he left him, washing his face throufully. 

“Use the mouthwash, and brush your teeth.” Josh went down to his knees and started cleaning the floor and the toilet sit.

Disgusting. He gagged a few times. 

It smelled so bad. 

“I feel better.” Ronny said, after a while.

“Throw the toothbrush to the bin.” 

Ronny did, and when he bent down to unlace his shoes, he actually succeeded. 

Josh wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to let Ronny have a hot shower, he would have to stay and make sure Ronny doesn’t faint. 

“Friends?” Josh asked, making Ronny jump. 

“What?” 

“You were with friends?”

Ronny stared at him, then shrugged. “Sure.”

Josh was too tired to get angry. “Be quick, I want to shower as well.” 

Ronny mumbled something that sounded like ‘go fuck yourself’ and walked into the shower stall, deliberately slamming the plastic door. 

With the sound of the water running, Josh was left with a newly clean bathroom, and a mess of stinky clothes on the floor. 

He wondered if the noise from the washing machine could potentially wake their mother up. 

He took the risk, shoving everything in the machine, including some clothes from over the rest of the week. Their mother didn’t need to be aware that anything unusual happened tonight, at all. 

*

Josh was warm.

Too warm.

He woke up with a groan, shoving the sheet of a blanket off his feet, trying to cool down. 

There was laughter coming from somewhere in the apartment. Then footsteps, getting near. The sound of the door to his room being opened. 

“Josh.” His mother said, sounding pleased. “Your brother is making pancakes.” 

Josh just grunted. 

“C’mone, it’s ten o’clock. You’re not a teenager anymore.”

Josh sighed, and opened his eyes. 

“Go wash up.” 

She didn’t close the door as she left. Josh sighed, again. 

How did Ronny get up so early? To make fucking pancakes? Wasn’t he at the very least hangover? 

Releasing another groan, Josh rubbed his sweaty palm over his sweaty face. He’ll need to get a new fan, he wasn’t going to survive the summer otherwise. 

As he got up and moved to the bathroom to wash his sweat away, he suddenly remembered the clothes from the night before.

But then, when he checked, he found the washing machine open and empty. The clothes were already hanging on the ropes outside the window. Josh stared at them for a moment, trying to figure out what was going on. His mother would have asked him about it if she were the one to see the wet clothes in the morning, and his brother was… in the kitchen. 

A few minutes later, Josh walked into the kitchen to see his mother and brother already sitting by the table, eating. 

Ronny glanced up at him, there were slight bags under his eyes, but he looked lively. 

Josh sat down on a stool. 

The pancakes were delicious. 

Josh volunteered to wash the dishes afterwards, receiving an appreciative look from his mother. 

On the first opportunity, when their mother went somewhere else in the apartment - and hopefully couldn’t hear them. Josh asked: “Where have you been?”

And Ronny answered: “With friends.”

“New friends?”

Ronny shrugged.

“Old friends, then?”

Ronny sighed, and opened the fridge to take out the bottle they kept of tap water. 

“Did you take anything heavier than weed?”

“No.”

“You promise?”

Ronny looked at him and nodded his head silently. 

“How do you know Talin?”

At that, Ronny smiled bitterly. “Okay, unexpected question.” Then he added: “Everyone knows Talin.”

“Everyone?”

“He’s… famous, you could say.”

“In what circles, and what is he famous for?”

Ronny looked at him. “What got you interested all of a sudden?”

“I met him out of nowhere two days ago, and suddenly remembered that when I asked him about you - he didn’t seem to recognize your name. Got me wondering how you knew about him, about where to find him.” 

“He’s working at the central station, and he’s… well, he’s known.”

Josh lifted an eyebrow. Josh couldn’t understand why Ronny wouldn’t just speak up, it was unlike him to turn elusive like that. 

“His clients are famous.”

“Famous.” Josh echoed.

“Famous people.”

Josh frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“When he’s not working at the central station, he’s in rich people’s home-parties.”

Josh laughed. “You’re shitting me.”

Ronny simply shrugged. “You talked to him, you tell me that you can’t believe it?”

“He is… elegant, I guess.” Josh smiled. “What’s he doing in the central station then? I’m just curious.” 

“I heard he’s trying to get his family members inside Israel, from Africa, wants to give them a place to stay and all of that.” 

Something clenched in Josh’s gut at those words. 

“Also,” Ronny tapped his fingers on his arm, at the juncture of his elbow. “Drugs.” 

“Yeah.” Josh frowned down to the floor. “That’s sad.”

“I don’t think I could ever thank you enough, for finding me.”

Josh looked up at that, surprised. 

“And I know that I’m fucked up, in many ways.” Ronny wasn’t looking at him, was rubbing at the nape of his neck. “And I mess up, like last night. Can’t promise I’ll turn… I’ll turn into another person altogether, but I really do stay away from the dangerous stuff, and I really am putting more effort into school. I meet this counselant or whatever.”

“Good.” 

“I guess it wasn’t easy, finding me, I mean. Hell,  _ I _ didn’t know where I was most of the time, how did you do it?”

“I talked to the right people.”

“Like Talin?”

“Like Talin, yeah.”

“And what they said, about you blackmailing someone?”

“It wasn’t anything serious, if they wanted they could have ignored it, I know they have the resources to protect themselves.” As Josh said the words, he realised how true it was. If Sahar wanted, he could have ignored Josh hacking his phone, could have blocked him somehow. Josh was sure Allex would have known what to do. 

Instead Sahar had worked his way through the right people to find Josh’s brother, to help him. 

And then the job offer? 

Really, Josh should be thankful, even though he wasn’t sure what the endgame was in all of this. Things could have gone down in a drastically different direction, if it wasn't for Sahar simply choosing to recruit Josh, instead of… getting rid of him, and Ronny. 

“Let’s just say,” Josh turned back to the dishes, looking at them like they could provide him with the words that he needed to say. “As long as you really do try, and as long as your life… gets better, overall, it was worth it.” 

Ronny didn’t answer for a while, he simply stood there silently as Josh finished washing and cleaning everything up. 

*

*

A week had passed, and Josh missed the sea. Missed the smell of it, and the salty stickiness it left on his skin and in his hair. 

He woke up one morning, earlier than usual, and took a bus to the shore. 

The restaurant wasn’t very far from his favorite spot, but they were closed at this hour, and so Josh didn't have to greet anyone he knew. 

Josh took off his shoes, went down the sandy beach until his feet were touching the water. It wasn’t easy to walk like that - his feet would get stuck in the wet sand, and the waves would threaten his balance - but Josh enjoyed this feeling, more than he could describe with words. 

The beach was nearly empty at such an early hour, the sun wasn’t yet high enough in the sky - and the wind had a chill to it, that would make getting wet uncomfortable. 

It took him awhile to get to the walls of the old city, just in time to see the fishermen pulling up their hooks and preparing to leave. That would leave his rock free for him, and so Josh made his way deeper into the water, the two lowest centimeters of his torn jeans getting wet. 

After settling down, Josh let his mind get lost with the sound of shallow waves crushing at the rocks, the gentle sound of shells and pebbles sliding up and down and against each other. 

The sun was rising higher, but the beach remained empty, most people having work to go to at this time - or not yet waking up if it was their day off. 

Two crabs came out of a hole, Josh smiled when he saw them. 

The bigger fish were beginning to draw into deeper water, leaving the area, and soon, Josh could only spot the smaller, regular fish that would nibble at the skin of his feet if he left them in the water. 

When the sun finally hit him, it was perfection. 

He could tell it was less than an hour (but not  _ much _ less) when the dryness in his throat was beginning to bother him, and the sharp edges of the rock started to make his body ache. 

Josh climbed the stairs leading to the edge of the old city, prepared to buy himself some breakfast. Tourists were already beginning to fill the streets with their tour guides and their hats and sunglasses and selfie sticks. 

There was a place selling local food for take-away down near the main avenue. Josh grabbed himself something to snack on while he made his way back to his bus station. 

He was lost in the peace he found earlier by the sea, and didn’t notice someone was walking by his side, casually. Josh glanced, wary, and then couldn’t look away. 

Sahar was looking back at him, too, without smiling, without even greeting him. 

“You live around here.” Josh said, more to himself than anything. It could explain how he would simply bump into the man, Jaffa wasn’t a large place. 

“And you don’t.” Sahar said simply. He didn’t look angry, or annoyed, or… like he thought anything about Josh at all. 

Josh wasn’t sure whether he should act more concerned, or maybe freaked out. The part in his brain that usually would make Josh act defensive - was dormant and quiet. “I like the rocks by the wall.” 

Sahar blinked at him, like he was trying to decipher Josh’s words. 

“By the sea.” Josh clarified. 

Sahar nodded, understanding. “Isn’t it too early for the sea?” 

“I wasn’t swimming, just sitting there. I like the quiet.” 

“The quiet.” Sahar repeated the words like they were a foreign language. “Huh.” 

“You could have ignored me, you know, when you saw me walking your streets just now.”

When Sahar didn’t answer, Josh suddenly got the feeling the he said the wrong thing. The calm of before was poisoned by the awkwardness of the moment, and Josh felt the familiar uneasiness he had around Sahar creeping in. 

“I was curious.” Sahar said. “And I'm hungry. Is that Jachnun?” He pointed at the plastic bag Josh was holding in the palm of his hand. 

Josh reluctantly took a piece for himself, before handing it over. “Don’t finish it.”

“Are you keeping it for someone?” Sahar asked in a tone of voice that indicated he already knew the answer. He still grabbed a sizable piece without the slightest hesitation, taking a bite and groaning from the taste. “The best in Tel Aviv.” 

Josh took a deep breath, and sighed it out. He refused to show he was intimidated, even though it was probably obvious. “I think I’ll return home, now.”

“You said you don’t have a job.”

Josh clenched his jaws, having a feeling of where this conversation was going. “So?”

“I’m alone, hungry, bored. I won’t eat your food, but I know of a place, I’ll pay.” 

“I-” Josh started to protest, but paused when their eyes met. “I’m not hungry.” 

“Just coffee, then.” 

“Didn’t know you drank proper coffee.” 

“Don’t have a taste for it, I’ll eat, you drink. They sell the best almond croissants you’d ever eat in your life.”

“Well,” Josh smiled, despite himself. “If you’re paying.”

“I am.” 

Josh couldn’t say he felt quite at ease, he probably never will be around Sahar - but, the tension was manageable. He offered a hum of appreciation when Sahar lead them to a french breakfast and bakery around an unassuming corner. The lady behind the bar greeted them with a polite smile - a smile that turned brighter when she seemed to recognize Sahar. 

French fell from her lips in a way that made Josh wonder how heavy her accent would be if she were to speak Hebrew. 

Sahar replied in French, making Josh blink in surprise. 

“La’ila.” The woman called, her short, curly hair bouncing when she turned to speak down the corridor behind her, asking someone to come out. Her accent was as heavy as Josh imagined it would be.

A waitress came out, still arranging her hair into a neat ponytail. 

They were probably the first customers to seat for the day. 

“Marhaba.” La’ila put tiny menus in front of each chair down in a table closest to the window. “Tea? Coffee?” 

Josh moved to take a seat, noticing that Sahar was still standing by the bar at the entrance, speaking softly to the middle aged lady. 

“No thanks.” He said when he saw that La’ila was looking at him with raised eyebrows. “I’m good.” 

“Achla.” La’ila shrugged and moved behind the bar, beginning to arrange something or another. 

Josh looked down to the menu, his eyes lost focus on the words. The letters were Hebrew and Arabic, but the words and names... were obviously French.

_ They did go a long way to translate that shit. _ He thought, as he flipped the menu just to find English and French on the other side. He wouldn’t be able to pronounce  _ anything _ . He was glad he wasn’t the one handling the order. 

Customers swam in, and Sahar had to leave his friend at the bar to come sit with Josh at the table. He didn’t pick up the menu. Instead, he leaned forward, he elbows on the table, staring out the window. 

The silence could have been comfortable and companionable with anyone else. Josh wasn’t someone to shy from silence, but here… now… with  _ him _ , it just felt like an itch on his skin, something he had the urge to do something about. 

“I guess you come here a lot.” Josh had an internal cringe from his own lame choice, out of all the things he could say. 

“It’s a comfortable place.”

It was, Josh looked around at the polished wooden furniture, at the sparkly clean glass panels and windows. At the swirling French title on the front glass door. The warmth of the ovens that felt like it was sinking to his bones without it being humid or uncomfortable. 

“Didn’t picture you as the…” Josh hesitated, it would be a tactless thing to say, but at the same time - he didn’t make any promises to be good company. “Sophisticated type.” He finished, drawing the words out, looking at Sahar warily to see his reaction. 

Sahar sighed, and leaned back in his chair. “No, I guess you wouldn’t.” 

“And the French was a nice touch.” Josh thought maybe he would eventually stretch the rudeness enough to make Sahar banish him out of the restaurant. 

Maybe the next time he saw Josh, he wouldn’t approach him out of nowhere just because he was bored. 

Sahar smiled. “I was born there, France.” 

Josh wasn’t sure what his reaction looked like, but one look at his face made Sahar chuckle good naturedly. His smile reached his eyes, making them sparkle. 

How could someone so brute turn out to be so effortlessly charming? How did he fake it so well?

“I would never be able to tell, you have no accent.” 

“Now it’s the opposite, I have accent when I speak the other language.” 

“Interesting.”

“Do you speak anything but Hebrew? You must know English, otherwise coding would be nearly impossible.”

“I’m good with it in codes, not so good in a conversation.” 

“Where did your grandparents come from?” 

“My mother’s family are originally from Jerusalem, my father’s family came from Yemen.” 

“Originally from Jerusalem, that’s rare.”

Josh shrugged. “Doesn’t make me feel more Israeli, or something.” 

“I guess I don’t feel much French, either.” Sahar looked out the window again, his eyes growing distant. “You’ll never be able to tell the different until you go to another country… it doesn’t feel like it does here.”

“Doesn’t stop people from immigrating out.” 

Sahar opened his mouth to reply, but it was at that exact moment that La’ila arrived with their food. 

Some kind of layered toast with lots of cheese and things in it was put in front of Sahar. Josh received a plate with a huge almond croissant, topped with so much powdered sugar it was all white, and a cup of coffee with a leaf-shaped milk foam. 

“Ever thought of leaving? Living somewhere else?” Sahar asked, after La’ila left to greet more customers that wanted to sit down. 

“Thought of it, I don’t think it's going to happen.”

“Because of your brother?” 

Maybe the coffee was of good quality, but all Josh could taste was bitterness at those words. “Not a good idea to bring up my brother in a conversation.” He said, putting the cup carefully down on its plate.

“Don’t be touchy. Eat.” 

And with that, Sahar sliced a chunk of bread and butter and cheese and what looked like non-kosher meat and shoved it in his mouth, smiling around the mouthful as he gave Josh an expectant look. 

When Josh came down to actually taking a bite off his croissant - it was so good that any bitter thought vanished from his mind. 

**Author's Note:**

> Updates whenever I manage.  
> Contact me at lavi1443.tumblr.com  
> Or lavi1443@gmail.com


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